Play along
by Molinita
Summary: House notices that there is something more to his friendship with Wilson and becomes rather annoying in his attempt to keep Wilson from denying it. Meanwhile Wilson gets in trouble for trying to prove he is still the womanizer.House Wilson shipping
1. Chapter 1

**Play Along

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_Disclaimer: I do not own House, Wilson or any other character from the House series. It's all Fox and David Shore's and they won't share with me._

_This will be a rather long story, so please rate and review and come back for the updates :)  
Again: English is not my native tongue.  
Thanks to mitfordgal for the beta and the formatting help._

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The rain fell hard outside and the raindrops against the window drummed in time with the tune Gregory House twiddled on his piano. The room was dark, but he was too much in thought to turn on the lights. A bottle of whiskey and a glass were on the top of his piano and the liquid swirled with every key he played. Every now and then lightning flashed and dipped the room in a ghostly light for a second. The crashing thunder followed almost instantly, but House kept his eyes shut. He reached out for the whiskey glass and had it already up to his lips when he noticed that it was empty. After a deep sigh he opened his eyes, put the glass back and reached right for the bottle. He wanted to get drunk tonight, no need to put it off until later.

Greg House loved the weekends. No people around: no patients, no doctors, no so-called friends. There was no reason to be nice to anyone. Not that he would be anyway, but it was good to have these quiet hours just for himself. He gulped down some whiskey and laid his fingers back on the keys. The usually cool wood was warm, he had been playing for hours. His back and his leg hurt and he looked around for his Vicodin and swore when he remembered he left it in the kitchen earlier. He took another sip of whiskey instead, closed his eyes and started playing again.

Usually the sound of the piano and the swift movements of only his fingers while the rest of his body remained still let his mind drift off and left him with thinking of nothing.

It was that peaceful and calm state House was longing for today, but he felt restless, like something was missing.

James Wilson closed his office door. He was tired and it was finally time to go home. He had not planned to stay this long, but one of his patients with terminal cancer had worsened tonight and he wanted to try a new pain medication to give her some relief.

"Wilson!" Cuddy walked up to him.

"Cuddy. Something wrong?" Wilson saw she was worried about something.

"Do you have any idea where House might have gone?" she asked a little breathless when she reached him. Wilson lifted his eyebrows.

"Home?" he said. "It's 11:30. Saturday night!", he added when she kept looking at him.

Cuddy shook her head. "I know. I tried to call him at home all evening. He didn't answer the phone." Wilson shrugged his shoulders.

"Suppress your number and call him again. He is at home. Where else would he be?" He turned the key and started to walk down the corridor. "Why did you call him anyway?" Wilson wondered what Cuddy had to talk about with House. Something private? House would have told him, wouldn't he? Wilson felt this funny feeling stirring in his stomach again. If it wasn't about House he would have thought it was jealousy, but now this could not be.

"Clinic. I need him in the clinic tomorrow. I had three doctors call in sick and can't do without his help." Cuddy looked desperate. "You have a key to his apartment. Could you please check if he's home?"

Wilson paused. So this was it all about: work. He took a deep breath. House's home wasn't exactly on his way, but then there was nobody waiting for him in his place. "Okay. I'll check and tell him to come here tomorrow, but I can't promise he'll be here then."

"Thank you!" Cuddy put a hand on his arm for a second when he nodded and hit the elevator button.

The lights were reflected on the wet street. The rain had finally stopped and the streetlight shone bright in the fresh air. It'll be a sunny day tomorrow, Wilson thought as he looked up to the stars. The clouds were all gone. He loosened his tie a little and ran a hand through his hair. This was a habit he only allowed himself in his non-working hours.

There was no light coming from the windows and Wilson looked at his watch. It was past midnight, but he couldn't imagine that House went to bed already. He knocked on the door a few times, but there was no answer. After another unanswered knock he pulled out the doorkey from his pocket that he always had with him, but never had to use it before without Greg's knowing. The door opened slowly and he looked into the dark. It was all quiet, but he thought he caught a faint smell of whiskey. "House?" Wilson closed the door and waited until his eyes had adjusted to the dark. "House?" he asked again, a little louder this time. "Are you home?" Wilson went to the living room and saw a shape lying on the piano. Gregory House was still sitting on his stool, with his forehead resting on his folded arms on his piano. "Greg? Are you okay?" With a few quick steps he reached his friend and laid a hand on his back.

"Sure," House grunted barely audible. "Jimmy?" He lifted his head a little.

Wilson frowned. "Who else do you think would come and check on you?" House shrugged his shoulders and his head fell back on his arms.

"I'm drunk", he mumbled and closed his eyes. He felt much better now that Wilson was here with him. The nausea had subsided, but the drowsiness remained.

"How long have you been drinking today?" Wilson thought of how Cuddy had tried to reach House all night. He looked around and saw two empty whiskey bottles on the floor. "Did you drink them both tonight?" The pure thought of that made Wilson's head spin. House didn't answer, but he turned his head a little, so he could get a glimpse of Wilson. The moonlight came in from the window behind him and House could only see his outline, but it was enough to reassure him, that he wasn't dreaming.

Wilson rubbed his chin. What was he to do with House now? Just get him to bed and call Cuddy in the morning to tell her House wouldn't be there? But there might be a slight chance to get him up on his feet again and have him help out Cuddy tomorrow. Of course he would feel miserable, but that will teach him not to empty two bottles of whiskey.

"Drink it up", said Wilson and handed House a glass he had fetched from the kitchen.

House looked disgusted. "That's water!"

"It's water and aspirine, to be exact. Drink it up." Wilson still held the glass in front of House's face.

House lifted his head. "Do you know what acetylsalicylic acid can do to your stomach lining?"

Wilson didn't move. "Do you know what two bottles of whiskey can do to your brain?" he answered coldly. For a split second House thought of throwing the glass at Wilson. Who was he to tell him what to do? But then a cloud darkened the moon and he could see Wilson's worried expression. He reached for the glass and drank the cloudy liquid down. Then he grimaced. "Whatever that whiskey is doing to my brain, it tastes much better than this."

"You better quit with the whiskey for today. Cuddy needs you in the clinic tomorrow." Wilson had decided to go for it right away. Just as he had expected, House's face became rigid.

"So that's what this is all about." He felt like someone dumped cold water onto him. His head suddenly became clear again. The cozy feeling of not having to do or think anything left him. He couldn't quite explain why, but he felt betrayed. Of course Wilson had only come over to deliver Cuddy's message. But then what else had he expected?

"Listen Greg, I'm sorry." Wilson started, but House cut him short.

"That's just fine. I know you jump when Cuddy calls. She's next on your list, isn't she? Had all the nurses and now you go for her!"

Wilson lifted a hand in defence, but House started shouting now. "Now sweet Cuddy needed a doctor for her stupid clinic patients and you thought you would be her hero if you could get grumpy old House to help her out. What a great idea! But you know what? I won't show up! And you get out of here - right now!" He knew none of it was true, but he wanted to hurt Wilson.

"Alright." Wilson nodded and turned around. There was no way he could argue. He had tried to many times. House would not listen anyway. Whatever was bothering him was going on for weeks now. He would jump and shout at him whenever he could. They had not had a good laugh in weeks and he missed it. He was halfway to the door when he turned around to look at his friend. House lay huddled onto his piano, his head buried in his arms again.

House felt lousy. Where did this desire come from that made him want to hurt Wilson so much? He always found the right words; he knew it when Wilson cringed. When this whole thing started about two months ago, Wilson had tried to argue, then changed his strategy to hurting House back. A few days ago he had stopped to respond to these attacks at all. It hurt House more to see Wilson so beaten than anything else, but still he couldn't stop. He felt like crying, but just the thought of sitting crying at the piano made his anger rise. He sat up and a flash of pain leapt through his leg and back. "Get me my pills!" he barked at Wilson.

"Get them yourself!" Wilson shouted back.

House clutched his leg with both hands. "I am sick. What about your Hippocratic oath?" He had not had any Vicodin in hours and felt the cold sweat on his forehead. Why hadn't he noticed before? The whiskey must have kept the withdrawal symptoms from surfacing. Was Wilson still in the house? He tried to listen but the rushing blood in his ears muffled every sound.

Wilson stood at the door, unsure whether to leave or to help House. He was so sick of shouting and fighting. He had seen the vicodin bottle on the kitchen table and assuming that House had been at the piano all evening, he had not taken any pills.

"Wilson?" House's voice sounded calm now and Wilson went to the kitchen to get some water and the pills.

When he came back to the living room, House knelt helplessly on the floor and was struggling with his cane. He obviously had tried to get up, but his leg had not supported his weight. Wilson went over to him, wanting to help him up, but House's growling stopped him.

"I wanted to help you, but you seem to prefer sitting on the floor like a toddler." Wilson stretched out his hand with the Vicodin and House snatched it from him.

"'bout time." His hands were shaking excessively now and he fumbled at the container for a while, but couldn't open it. House held it back up to Wilson who opened the bottle wordlessly, then handed him two of the pills. House threw them into his mouth and waited for them to take effect but was still shaking uncontrollably.

Wilson knelt down behind him and held his shoulders to keep him from shaking. He wished he could do anything to make it stop. "Didn't take any for hours", House mumbled and leaned back against Wilson.

"It's okay, just takes a few minutes to get better." He put his arms around Greg's shoulders to steady him and he felt his weight against his body. For a few minutes they just sat there waiting for the shaking to stop. When House finally calmed down, he slid a little deeper into Wilson's arms until his head was resting at his shoulder. There it was again: this feeling of comfort and safety. No need to think, no need to act, no need to even drink. He was cold, but could feel the warmth of Wilson's body slowly chasing away the icy feeling from him.

Wilson leant his cheek against House's. House's face was still damp from cold sweat, and the stubble felt rasp on Wilson's skin. "Jimmy?" House said softly. "I'm sorry." Wilson didn't aswer, but a smile spread across his face. He hadn't heard those words from his friend in a long, long time. He closed his eyes and savored the moment. He noticed that Greg was playing with his fingers. Where was this whole thing going?

"Jimmy", Greg whispered again after a while. Wilson turned a little to look down to House who had lifted his head. They were so close now that their lips almost touched.

"Hmm", Wilson was too lazy to speak.

"Could you take your damn knee away? It's pressing against my back."

"What?" Wilson was pulled out of his trance.

"Your knees dammit. You are breaking my back!" House shifted and tried to sit up with Wilson's arms still around him.

"Oh. Yeah, sure." Wilson took his arms away and backed off. Of course House had to push him away again, just like he always did. "I got to go." Back on his feet, Wilson felt a little more comfortable.

"I didn't say 'go away'. I said take your knees out of my back." House said harshly and was still on the floor and looked up to him.

"You got your pills and your cane. And you got your ego." Wilson took a step backwards with every word he said. "You'll be fine. I can go. What else would you need?"

House watched him reach the livingroom door. He wanted to shout: 'You! It's you that I need!' But his mouth was too dry. Maybe it was his pride as well that stopped him. Jimmy was right, his ego got into the way. He couldn't stand to be seduced by this moment. He wasn't used to tenderness. Wilson should know this. Why the heck couldn't he understand?

He lifted his cane and pulled himself up from the floor as Wilson turned around and left him alone. The nausea and the cold came back. He had more than one bottle of whiskey after all. The room was swirling fast around him and he tried hard to steady himself. House made it to the hall and saw the door close behind Wilson. Anger dwelled up inside him. He leaned against the wall and threw his cane. "Go then!" he yelled as the cane crashed against the door. "Thanks for getting the Vicodin from the kitchen!" His head dropped against the wall and he slid down to the floor. "Stupid idiot!" he cursed and wasn't sure if he was saying it to Wilson or himself.

Wilson stood in front of the appartement and heard the cane crash against the door. He wanted to run away. He longed for a peaceful place and for someone who would just hold him. A thought of his ex-wife came to his mind. Why did she left him? He really needed her now. Someone calm and understanding, not a screwed up drug-addict like House. Still Wilson knew he couldn't walk away. As soon as the shouting and cursing inside stopped, he put his ear to the door. There was no sound. An old lady opened the door across the corridor. She wore her fur coat over her nightgown. "Something wrong? Should I call the police?" "No, thank you." Wilson tried to smile at her reassuringly and she closed her door again. He was certain she would look at him through the spyhole though. There was no point in waiting any longer. He got his key back out and opened the door. House was sitting on the floor, closed eyes and his head in his palms. Wilson closed the door and leaned against it.

Even though he didn't look up, House was perfectly aware of Wilson watching him. He had not expected him to come back in, but was glad he did, although he would never admit it loudly. He lifted a hand. "Help me up." Wilson hesitated, but took the outstreched hand and pulled him to his feet. House nodded, but couldn't look Wilson in the eye. He picked up his cane and limped slowly to the bathroom.

Wilson watched him go and then went to the bedroom, straightened the sheets and closed the blinds without even thinking. He snatched the second blanket from the bed and turned around to go to the living-room.

"Where are you going?" House stood right in front of him. His hairline was wet.

"I'll sleep on the couch." Wilson answered and noticed how he still avoided his eyes.

"You can stay here", House said quietly when Wilson passed him.

"No thanks, I'll be fine on the couch." House held his sleeve to stop him and pointed his head to the bed. Wilson looked down at House's wet cuffs. "It's all wet." He said pointlessly.

"I've been to the bathroom."

"Eww." Wilson grimaced.

"Happened when I was washing my hands, not before."

"Why did you wash your sleeves then?" Wilson looked up to House's face. Their eyes met and Greg's face showed a little grin.

"Just to have you ask me stupid questions." Wilson's face lit up and he threw the blanket back on the bed.

He felt relieved when he came back to the bedroom where Greg lay on his back on the bed, his arms folded under his head. He had taken off his wet shirt and still had that little grin on his face. Wilson had not seen that smile in ages and for the first time he felt this whole situation could get back to normal.

"I thought you would go", said House when Wilson pulled up his blanket.

"I wanted to, but then your neighbor came out and wanted to take care of the situation. You know that old shrew across the hall. I thought it's either her or me lying in this bed tonight and I came to the rescue!"

"Lucky me," House turned his head towards Wilson. "I guess."

"You GUESS?" Wilson looked up. "She has some bones in her that could give paleontologists some answers."

"Well, with a flower-patterned nightdress you could be a pretty good stand-in." House stared back at the ceiling, grinning.

"A flower-patterned -" Wilson went silent. He gave himself a second to think of an answer, but he couldn't come up with one, so he picked up a cushion and threw it at House.

"Hey! Never fight with a cripple!" House took the cushion and hurled it back and Wilson.

"You think you're really smart bringing up that cripple thing again, hmm?" The cushion flew back.

"Ya, we can pick the weapons!" House pulled out his cushion from under his head and flung both cushions in Wilson's direction.

They fought for a few minutes before both of them sunk tired and grinning back into the sheets. "I bet the shrew is sticking with her ear to your front door", Wilson laughed.

"Sorry sweetheart!" House shouted to the door. "Not today. I got a friend over tonight."

House lay on his back again, but he tilted his head to the side to watch Wilson who was tugged up under his blanket with only his head and his hands out. He had his eyes closed and his face relaxed and House wondered again how someone as gentle as Wilson could be his friend for so many years.

It took Wilson only a few minutes to pretend that he was asleep. He knew House was looking at him and he felt nervous. He rolled over on his stomach, started to breath evenly and kept his eyes firmly closed. He still did not understand what was going on, or he did not want to understand. Wilson was aware of House's body next to him and kept thinking about holding him earlier this night when they were waiting for the Vicodin to take effect.

While rolling over, Wilson had pulled down the blanket a little. His shoulder got cold, but he didn't dare to move.

House noticed the faint shiver and pulled the blanket back up over Wilson's shoulder. Then he pulled his own blanket up and turned towards Wilson. His left hand lay on the bed, really close to his. He looked at it for a moment and then took his fingers into his hand and played softly with them like he had done earlier in the living room. He knew Wilson only pretended to be asleep. Even better. This way Wilson could stop him, if he wanted to. House let Wilson's finger slide through his and then felt how Wilson pushed his fingertips against his. When he looked up to his face, Wilson had his eyes open.

"I hate to be a poor sport, House, but I have to work in the clinic later today."

"Oh yes kill-joy, I forgot about your Cuddy obsession." House let go of Wilson's hand, but he still wore a little smile. "Is she worth it?" He made puppy eyes and Wilson couldn't resist reaching out and ruffling his hair.

"No, but I'll go anyway." House grabbed Wilson's hand and held it close to him. It seemed impossible to let go of him completely.

"Say Jimmy", he said softly. "Earlier tonight, were you about to kiss me? The second before I told you to take your knees away." Greg felt guilty for breaking the spell in that moment and if there was a way to get back into that position he would do it.

"No," Wilson answered shortly and draw his hand back.

'There is no way this is ever gonna happen!' he thought to himself. 'No way!'

Later, Wilson woke up just to find himself cuddled into House's arms. Greg's rough cheek against his chin. He gave him a light kiss on his temple, buried his face into his touseled hair and fell back asleep. It simply felt too good to free himself from this hug.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you everyone for the reviews and comments. I know House has been too nice in chapter one and he and Wilson were too close, but one was drunk the other one confused. It won't stay like that!

Have fun reading chapter #2 and please leave your comments. That won't change the story, but it'll make me happy:))  
Thanks again to my beta. You are a big help!

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The sun sent its warm light through the small openings of the blinds and Wilson blinked. What time was it? His first thought was the hospital as usual, but then he noticed something was wrong. His head was resting on House's chest and he had his legs tied around him. Slowly the memory came back. He had woken up several times at night, always in Greg's arms. He had kissed his temple. Later when Greg had loosened his grip he couldn't resist to pull him closer again. He had flung his arms around him and kissed him. He had kissed him? Wilson suddenly was wide awake. He had kissed House? Had House been awake at all? Even if he was, two bottles of whiskey sure excused him. But what could excuse what Wilson had done? The daylight burned in his eyes now and he struggled to free himself from House's grip without waking him up. What would House say if he saw him hugging him like this, like … like a lover. The thought made Wilson blush and he almost fell out of the bed as he rolled backwards. He had to get out of here _right now_. Wilson grabbed his pants and his shirt and put them on. While fleeing the bedroom he pulled his tie from the doorknob and rushed outside. 

Dr. Cameron took some files from Cuddy who already turned around again to leave for another patient. It was not even noon, but Cuddy was tired already. Another doctor had called in sick and now not only had House not shown up, but Wilson didn't either. She sighed, threw her hair back and was on her way to room three, where a mother with three sick children was waiting for her.

_The less doctors are here, the more patients come in_. Cuddy shook her head and then saw Wilson hurrying along the corridor. She stopped dead.

"Dr. Wilson, what happened?" He was unshaved, his hair uncombed and the shirt was half open because it was buttoned up wrongly.

"Nothing. Sorry, I'm late." Wilson tried to push up his tie in vain and picked at his shirt. He did not dare to stop and look at Cuddy or Cameron, so he kept his head down and ran past them towards the elevator. "I will be there in a minute to help you," he called back to them as the doors closed behind him. Wilson thanked God that there was nobody else in the elevator. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and froze. Embarrassed he tried to flatten his hair and rebuttoned his shirt. Wilson scolded himself for not driving home first. What would he say if anyone asked again, what had happened to him? _Sorry I was just a little confused, because I kissed my best friend!? _The corridor to his office was empty and Wilson closed the door behind him. He had to sit down for a while, but as soon as he sat, the memory haunted him again. Had House kissed him back? Wilson touched his lips and somehow remembered Greg's mouth on his. This was too much. He jumped up again, went to the bathroom and turned the water on. Then he caught the icy water in his hands and dipped his face into it. He had to get back to his normal, self-controlled self.

Cuddy had no time to worry about Wilson. As soon as she sent one patient home, there were already two more waiting for her. Cameron put her patient's file on top of Cuddy's on the desk. "What happened to those 9 to 5 clinic hours?" she asked with a tired voice.

Cuddy looked at Cameron's exhausted face. "You better go home. You have been here all night."

Cameron wanted to protest, but after more than 24 hours in the hospital she couldn't think of anything else than her own bed in her own apartment. "House didn't show up?" she asked, but knew the answer already before Cuddy shook her head. "Do you want me to call him before I leave?" Another man just entered the hall and Cameron could not think of any other way she could be of any help.

Cuddy felt like growling at each patient that came in. There are seven days a week and they all needed a doctor this Sunday. "No, no need to. Wilson tried to talk to him yesterday. From his looks this morning, House hadn't been too nice to him." She took another file and called Mrs. Frempton into room number one.

Wilson was tired, but his clothes and his hair looked neat and clean as always. Luckily none of the people he had to examine showed any serious illnesses. He didn't feel like ordering tests now or dealing with the patients more than he had to. Whenever he was out on the corridor he tried to avoid Cuddy. All he wanted to do was to go home, get drunk and sleep. Complaining patients with nothing but runny noses and curious doctors who kept looking at him, annoyed him this morning and for the first time he could understand how House felt when he was forced to clinic work. House. There he was again, like a ghost hunting him. Wilson tried to push him to the back of his mind and stepped out of the room to call the next patient in.

Cuddy came out of the adjoining room and their heads both turned towards the doors. In with the gleaming sun came Gregory House, leaning on his cane but smiling and obviously in high spirits. "Good morning Cuddy, Wilson. " He turned around to the waiting room, "patients," he greeted.

"What are you doing here?" Cuddy stared at him in disbelieve. Wilson beside her could only nod in accordance with her question. His mouth stood open.

"Well, Wilson came over last night and told me you need me right here and now." House stopped a few inches in front of Cuddy and looked down at her. "Basically, he said you couldn't live without me anymore and we should have sex in room five _right now_!"

All eyes rested on Cuddy now. An old lady blushed and turned her head, a teenage girl started giggling. Cuddy just groaned. "Get a file and start working." She took some papers from the pile on the desk and pushed them into his hands. "Who's next?" she asked into the room and a man in his late fifties shyly rose his hand.

"Room five, please", said Cuddy, turning her eyes upwards as the teenager giggled again.

Wilson watched House disappear into one of the rooms behind his patient, then he took a file, turned around and went to room six on his own. He had spent the whole morning worrying about behaving naturally and avoiding Cuddy. Never had he thought that House would show up or else he had started to worry about that already.

He started nibbling his finger, desperately trying to find a solution to this mess. Was House going to make fun of him, because of last night? Did he remember anything at all? And most important: did he, Wilson, get it all right? Was this what had happened?

"Dr. Wilson?" Rebecca, a young brown haired nurse, opened the door. Wilson looked up. He had seen her a few times, but she had just started to work at the PPTH and he didn't know much about her.

"Yes?"

"Mrs. Witham has been waiting for almost two hours now. You got her file. Will you examine her?" Wilson took his finger out of his mouth and noticed that it was all red from his biting and nibbling.

"Sure," he said. "Call her in." Rebecca thanked him with a sweet smile and closed the door behind her again. _She's very cute_, Wilson thought and wondered if she would go out to dinner with him. That was what he wanted! He wanted a beautiful and nice girl. He didn't want House. He wasn't gay!

Wilson felt so much better now and took his time to talk to Mrs. Witham while he examined her. And when he saw later that there were only a few people left in the waiting room, he was happy to be able to go home. There was nothing to worry about. Last night didn't happen.

Gregory House sat in his office, tossing his little ball up in the air over and over again. He could feel his head throbbing now from his hangover. Why the heck had he come over to the hospital to work on a Sunday? He didn't really know. The looks on Cuddy's and Wilson's face when he showed up almost made up for the horror of having to deal with the patients. Almost. He wouldn't do it again.

What brought him to the hospital was Wilson. Would he back away, would he avoid him? House was not sure what really happened last night. All he knew was that Wilson came to look after him and helped him to his Vicodin. He was thankful for his help, but after all Wilson was his friend and weren't friends supposed to help each other? House recalled the warm, fuzzy feeling he had when Wilson held him steady while he was shaking from the withdrawal and he hated himself for that. He didn't need help, he didn't need compassion. If he could get himself drunk, he could deal with it himself!

The small ball rested in his hand and House stared at it as if he had never seen it before. There was something else. For a second he had thought that Wilson would kiss him. He had no idea why he would do anything like that, but it sure looked like it to him. But Wilson denied it. But then, since when did House have to believe what Wilson said? Helping him when no help was needed and then trying to kiss him? Did he really look like someone who needs to be pampered with pity and caring kisses?

House put the ball back on his desk and got up from his chair. He grabbed his cane, limped through the office and threw the door shut behind him. Maybe there was still time to catch Wilson.

He went through the corridors as fast as possible, but when he reached the parking lot, Wilson's car already was gone. This had to wait until tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

**Play Along: Chapter Three**

Note: The story continues … this time without a beta, so if you'll find anything in here that does not sound like proper English to you, please let me know.  
Thanks to those who read and wrote a review and thanks to those who – hopefully – review this chapter.

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"**H**ouse?" Wilson knocked on the door, but entered the room without waiting for an answer. He closed the door and turned around to look at House, then stopped dead. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked and left his mouth open in surprise. 

House sat behind his desk, with every single item in his reach build up on his desk like a wall. "Wait. Don't come closer!" he said and added a staple gun to an already high tower of paraphernalia. "I am not ready yet." House reached for a book and balanced it somewhere on top of it all.

"May I ask -?" Wilson started, but House cut him off.

"This is an impenetrable anti-caring shield, " he paused. "Wall", he added to make this whole structure seem even more impressing.

"An anti-caring shield?" Wilson repeated bluntly.

"Wall", House added. "A impenetrable anti-caring shield wall." The name did not make any sense, but he just sat back and folded his arms over his chest.

Dispite his surprise, Wilson understood quickly. This was the demonstrative and childish way of saying 'back off' and he had built this barricade just for Wilson. He blew out some air and lifted his shoulders. "Fine. No more caring. Whatever you are up to next, I'll leave you to deal with it alone."

"Promise?" House peered at him.

Wilson nodded. "Promise! No more caring. No matter if you drink yourself to death, overdose, withdrawal… I know you can deal with these things on your own. I've seen that already", he said, his voice dripping of sarcasm.

"Good", House ignored the sarcasm and streched out his hand towards the papers that Wilson handed him.

"Your patient. Several blanks in his longterm memory. Ataxia. Cuddy wants you to look into it. His name ist David Tamgard."

"Look Wilson, I don't really have the time now to -." House protested, but Wilson already turned around and left the office.

"David Tamgard. It's your case! Cuddy's orders."

After the door fell shut, House put the papers aside and started to clean up his desk. That had been easier than he had thought. Wilson had taken it pretty good.

**  
W**ilson stopped outside on the corridor. He was taken aback. Somehow he felt relieved that House didn't get back to him about the almost-kiss, but then House was outmost ungrateful about Wilson's help.

Rebecca, the new nurse, walked past him and gave him one of her sweet smiles. "Good morning, Dr. Wilson", she said shyly.

"Good morning ...uhm… Rebecca it is, isn't it?" Wilson asked with innocent eyes. She stopped and nodded with a little giggle. Wilson's smile got broader. "Thank you for helping out yesterday. Hope you didn't have to cancel any date for the weekend?"

Rebecca blushed. "No. I don't have a boyfriend."

"Really?" Wilson lifted his eybrows in mock surprise and he knew the girl would fall for him right away. This was just what his ego needed right now.

**  
T**he garish laboratory light burned in his eyes as House went over to Cameron who sat at a microscope.

"Found anything?" he asked and already flipped his fingers through the papers next to her.

"I am not sure. There could be something, but I have to use another stain to be sure." She pushed the microscope over to him a little and leaned back.

House hung his cane on the edge of the table and rested one hand on Cameron's chair and the other one on the table. He adjusted the eyepiece and stared at the blurring cells. It took him a few seconds to make out the structures. Close beside him he could hear Cameron's low breath and suddenly was aware of how close she was. House tilted his head a little and while pretending to look into the microscope he gazed at her breasts. She really was a beautiful woman. For a few seconds he wondered if she would go out with him again. He tried to imagine what she would look like naked and how her skin felt under his hands. Nice thought, but then he turned his eyes back to the cells. _These little blue ones looked very suspicious._

"Try a more basic stain", he ordered and wondered why these cells had him more intrigued than the thought of Cameron's naked body.

A beeper went off and both of them took out theirs simultaneously. "Mine", said Cameron. "Foreman needs a consultation."

"I'm sure he does!" House stated and took another look at her plunging neckline. She followed his eyes and turned around wordlessly.

**  
W**hen she had left, he sat down on her stool and took another look at the swimming cells in the microscope. Maybe if he adjusted it a little more he could see whatever was in them. He was huddled over the microscope when the door opened again and Wilson came in.

"Mr. Tamgard?" he asked.

"No, House. Dr. Gregory House. And you must be Dr. Wilson." House streched out a hand.

Wilson pushed his hand away. "Anything new on the patient?" he flipped through the papers just as House had done earlier.

"We have to try a more basic stain. There might be something."

Wilson leaned over and looked through the microscope. "There might be –", he pointed to some imaginary cell in the air. "There is a shadow. he leaned even closer to be able to focus on the cells. His lab coat collar brushed against House's shoulder. "Have you seen this dark –" Wilson stopped as he looked around to look at House. His face was merely two inches away.

House examined his face with his steel blue eyes. "You are not gonna try and kiss me again, do you?" House kept up his stare and didn't move. His mocking voice sounded cold.

Wilson back away. "I did not try to kiss you!"

"You did."

"No, I didn't."

"Did."

"Good heavens. Stop it House! I looked down, you looked up. Our faces got close. That was it!" Wilson's voice was louder than he had planned. This was what he had feared the most: House making fun of him about this.

House noted that panicking undertone in Wilson's voice. "Okay", he agreed without conviction. He got up and took his cane, then hobbled to the door. But before he left he turned around to Wilson once more. "And you _did_ try to kiss me." House grinned and left Wilson alone. He loved to tease him about that. As long as other people showed weakness, he would be happy to make fun of them. And Wilson was his favorite!

Wilson stared back through the microscope, cells swimming before his eyes. He watched the pink acidic stained cells drift away from the basic blue ones that clinged to eachother. He slapt the occular away with his hand and got up. There was something he had to do.

**  
H**e raced through the corridors until he found Rebecca. She straightened the sheets of a bed while another nurse was in the bathroom to help the patient to take a shower. Wilson cast a short look at the bathroom and then closed the door to speak to Rebecca on her own.

"You are doing a great job", he started, sporting his best womanizer-smile.

The young nurse looked up to him and smiled. "Thanks."

Wilson started some smalltalk and Rebecca was happy to comply.

"You're working on dayshift this week, don't you?"

The question was purely rhetorical, but Rebecca nodded. "8 to 5."

"Do you have any plans for tonight? We could go out for dinner", Wilson's voice sounded casual, but Rebecca's smile widened. "Just a bite at Reilly's and then I'll drive you home."

"Sure."

The bathroom door openend and Rebecca's older colleage came in. Wilson recognized Lisa, whom he went out with twice. He ducked automatically.

"See you later in the hall", he said to Rebecca and made for the door. He had to dodge Lisa who supported her limping patient. She frowned, her eyes went from Wilson to Rebecca, but she didn't say anything. Wilson avoided her eyes and took a look at the patient, holding his leg and obviously in pain. Then he went to the door and stepped out into the corridor.

**  
H**is thoughts went back to the night at House's place. His friend had been in pain and drunk. House had looked so helpless and still strong. Wilson tried to remember the situation in the livingroom. Had he wanted to kiss House? He could not remember. He did not _want_ to remember. But he definately had not tried to kiss him! He pushed the thoughts back, stowed them in a little place deep into his mind.

**  
H**ouse felt slightly drowsy. He had spent the last two hours of his clinic duty in room five playing with his Nintendo. The real world didn't exist while he had played and he blinked into the grey light as reality slowly reappeared around him. He snaped his Nintendo close and reached for his cane. His back and his legs were stiff and the pain started to come back. Rubbing his leg with one hand, he opened the vicodin bottle with the other one and swallowed two pills.

"Stupid cripple", he scolded himself, "get up." He stood on his good leg and shifted the weight to the cane, then limped out of the room.

The buzzing of doctors and patients in the hall felt unreal, he wanted to go back into his jump and run Nintendo world. Jump and run – definitely something he could only experience on his Nintendo. He felt the need to kick his cane, his leg, but kept on limping through the hall.

"House, where have you been?" Cuddy stood in front of the elevator door.

"Get off me, Cuddy. I've been in the clinic."

"Did you treat any patients?"

"I treated them the best way I could by avoiding them." House looked up to the ceiling, trying to ignore Cuddy.

"I need you to help in the clinic!" Her stern voice did not bother House at all and she let out an angry growl. "I don't have the time to discuss this with you now -"

House cut her short. "Excellent, neither have I. I can see we can definitely call this little chat over."

"I want to see you in my office tomorrow at 9 a.m. sharp!" Cuddy hissed and turned around.

"But I don't want to have sex with you again!" House shouted and two nurses turned their heads. "She's so demanding!" he whispered in their direction.

**  
O**ut on his balcony, House was looking down. The drowsiness came back and he was bored. There was still light in Wilson's office and he decided to pay him a visit. He limped back inside through his office and knocked at his door.

"Go away, House!" Wilson yelled through the closed door.

"You can't know it's me!" House pouted and trod into the office in spite of Wilson's protest.

"I saw you on the balcony." Wilson sighed an took a look at his watch, almost 5 o'clock.

"Balcony proves nothing", House still pouted.

"I don't have time for you now."

"You are leaving work at 5 sharp? Who is she?" House sat down opposite to Wilson.

"Who's who?" Wilson's face looked innocent as he kept himself busy shoving files over his desk.

"The girl you're going out with. 5 pm sharp? Can only be one of the nurses." House watched Wilson.

"No. No girl, no date. Get out."

House didn't move. "A new one? Or are you warming up some left overs?"

"Left overs?" Wilson raised his eyebrows.

"Yep, some nurse you had not been finished with the last time. Lisa?" House looked unconcerned, just showing his nerve-racking curiosity, but inside he felt a storm coming up.

"No girl, no date." Wilson stood up and took off his lab coat.

"You are lying." The storm grabbed his stomach, whirling it around like a tornado.

"Am I?" Wilson's brown eyes looked cold. "No date. Believe it or not." He put his brown jacket on and straightened his tied.

The raging storm inside House got even worse. The eye of the tornado grabbing his heart twisting it throwing it around in his chest. He had a hard time to keep his cool. "Not", he said shortly.

Wilson only shrugged his shoulders. "You're prob, buddy, not mine." He took another glance at his watch: 5 pm. "Got to run. Lock the door please when you go." Wilson turned around and left.

**  
H**ouse rang for air, the tornado took all his breath away. "Wilson!" he said, but his friend was out of his office already.  
He breathed heavily and pushed himself out of the chair in desperate need for some fresh air. Leaving his cane behind he stumbled to the balcony door. The cool air filled his lungs. House took out his vicodin and swallowed two pills, then grabbed the hand rail and pulled himself to the balcony wall. A list of differential diagnoses for sudden dyspnea ran through his head, none of them made any sense to him. He was angry at Wilson. _Why did he leave him behind when he obviously did not feel well?_ This was not like Wilson at all. His friend usually was helpful and caring. House's eyes wandered over to his own office. The lights were on and he could see his desk. Suddenly he remembered the barricade, the anti-caring shield.  
He felt guilty, a little. And he felt the need for Wilson.

Below he heard a little giggle, then Wilson's voice. House leaned over the balustrade and saw Wilson leave the hospital, his hand on the back of a young nurse, leading her to his car. He opened the door for her and made sure her dress was not caught in the door. Then he walked around the car, got in and drove off.

_I knew he lied!_ thought House, not feeling better at all. Again his lungs lacked of oxygen. He panted for air and reached for his vicodin again. Two didn't help, make it three!


	4. Chapter 4

**Play Along: Chapter Four**

**W**ilson had a miserable evening. Rebecca forgot about her shyness the moment he told her to call him James outside the hospital. It only took until the waiter served their starters for her lively chit-chat to wrack Wilson's nerves. He couldn't remember ever hearing that much meaningless talk about absolutely unimportant things. He tried to lead her to more significant topics, but she enjoyed her own talking so much that he hardly got a word in. He ate in silence, trying to block her words from his mind, afraid they might do some serious damage to his brain.

"My auntie always said 'girl, you need some red shoes to go with your red dress!'"

Wilson shook his head as if trying to get rid of that pointless statement. _What was she talking about anyway?_ He was very much looking forward to kick her out of the car at her apartment really soon, although he was not sure if he was able to drive, if he had to listed to another story of Rebecca's "auntie".

"James? Are you okay? You're quite." Rebecca cast him a worried look. "Do I talk to much? My auntie always says "Beccy, you tend to talk too much.'"

"No, I'm fine", Wilson lied. He rubbed his neck and already cursed his lie when Rebecca started on her next auntie-story. 

**L**ater he stopped at her house, his head hurting.

"Do you want to come in?" she put a hand on his knee and looked him in the eyes.

"No!" Wilson answered way to fast and too loud.

She pouted. "You don't like me. I'm sorry, if I wasn't entertaining enough. I'm sure you usually spend your evenings with studied women, doctors. I can be more entertaining when you come and _play_ upstairs." She giggled. "My auntie said 'a girl has to know how to keep a man happy especially at night.'"

Wilson froze. Having to spend the night with Rebecca would be his worst nightmare. He hoped for his beeper to go off, but it remained silent. "Sorry Rebecca, I really have to go."

"Why?"

_Why?_ Wilson struggled for words while she was watching him, waiting for him to answer. _What was he usually doing that could keep him from spending the night with her._ House! He spent most of his nights with House. He knew his answer took him way to long to be believable.

"I have to go see a friend," he finally managed.

"A girlfriend?"

Wilson screamed inwardly. She did not ask him a single question the whole eveing, _why had she to start it now?_

"No, just a good friend."

"Why do you have to see him tonight? You could have sex with me", Rebeccas big innocent eyes showed a little sparkle.

"I – I", Wilson stuttered. _I'd rather have sex with him,_ he thought and despite the surprise about his own thoughts it took him some effort not to say it out loud. "I need to help him. He's sick," he said instead.

She looked at him, staying quiet for the first time this evening.

"I am a doctor", Wilson added to explain his obligation.

"You're lying", Rebecca said angrily and got out of the car. "You don't know what you are missing!" She slammed the door shut and disappeared into the house.

Wilson leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. He wished he could really drive over to House now, but that was completely out of the question. He had had an overdose of estrogen tonight and felt smashed. 

**H**ouse _was_ smashed. He had emptied a bottle of whiskey and as long as he could still keep the balance he would get more beer from the kitchen. He had tried to play the piano earlier this evening, but all he did come up with was some stupid love song. Wilson's voice was still ringing in his ear_: No girl. No date_.  
He had lied! Wilson was his best friend and was not supposed to lie to him.

House reeled back into the kitchen and got another beer from the refrigerator. He had trouble opening the bottle, but managed it. He glared into the fridge, his eyes clouded from the alcohol, took out two more bottles and opened them right away. He was afraid he would not be able to open more bottles later. One arm around the bottles and the other on his cane he limbed along. His eyes fell on the vicodin on the table. He'd better not leave them in the kitchen again. Pondering for a second, how to pick the bottle up, he finally bend down and grabbed it with his teeth. Fully equipped he went back to the couch. House stared at the commercial spots without seeing them. He didn't know if it was a commercial break within a movie or a break between two movies. He didn't even care. With his first gulp of beer he took one pill, then took two more with the next gulp. He didn't know how much pills he already took. He had stopped counting when Wilson had left with the girl.

_Wilson!_ There he was again. Stuck in his head like – like .. like a coagulum in a small bloodvessel. No, he wiped that analogy away, too painful. Like bubblegum stuck in the hair. Not better either, to disgustig. Like – his brain was desperately looking for another analogy, but could not come up with any.  
"Stuck like Wilson in my head", House stated loudly into his empty living room. He got startled by his own thought. _When did this start? Since when was Wilson stuck in his head? And why the heck wouldn't he get out of there._ House tried to think, tried to remember, but the alcohol and the pills had his brain clouded and he could not seem to find his way through the fog in his head.

His temper rose, he emptied his bottle of beer and smashed it on the floor. _Damn alcohol! Damn Wilson!_ He reached for the vicodin on the table, noticed he slipped. House tried to steady himself and reached out again. The bottle was close but was maliciously dancing in front of his fingers. And then his fingers closed around emptiness again.

"Stay!" House barked at the pills and reached out again. He had to be faster then the bottle, much faster. _James could do it_, he thought and grabbed for the bottle one more time. His fingertips brushed the cold plastic and then he fell. He never thought the couch would be this high. He fell for seconds, minutes then he hit the ground hard and everything went dark.

House's brain was conditioned to Wilson showing up whenever he felt miserable. Now that he lay on the floor, open mouthed, his breath came short and unsteady. His heartbeat completely out of control. Fast beats from the pills and the alcohol, slow beats from the same causes. His body didn't know how to react to the mass of drugs in his system. His temple was bleeding where his head had hit the table.

Through the dark in his head pictures of Wilson started to appear. The imaginary Wilson took his head, held him up. His heart switched to a still weak, but more regular beat. His stomach started to protest against vicodin, beer and whiskey. House started to choke. He reached for Wilson's hands that held him, he heard Wilson's soothing voice. Wilson was cursing, cursing House for drinking too much, for taking too many pills. Still his voice calmed him. He choked again and again and finally his stomach turned its inside out. He grabbed Wilson, then fell again. This time to a much softer landing. 

**W**ilson lay in bed, still thinking about the evening. _Why did he have to go out with that girl. Was it just to annoy House? Or to prove himself he wasn't gay? _There it was again. He had tried to push the thought aside since the evening with House. _Of course he wasn't gay!_ Wilson told himself again. He was married three times. A lot of girls and women could attest that he indeed was _not_ gay. But still there was this moment when House played with his fingers so softly and then lifted his head. House was wrong. Wilson knew it now. He had not tried to kiss him, but he had hoped House would kiss him. There was no denying this fact, but Wilson couldn't figure out why he wanted it so much. He grabbed a second pillow and wrapped around it, his face buried in the soft cotton. He could smell House somehow. He felt so close now. Wilson closed his eyes and finally fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Play along: Chapter Five**

_Summary: A fight with Cuddy starts Wilson's day. And it doesn't get any better when House shows up._

* * *

"**W**ilson!" 

He looked around, searching. He heard Cuddy call him, but could not see her. The hall was packed. It was another busy day in the clinic and he hoped he wouldn't have to work here all day. He had enough on his hands with his own patients.

"Wilson, good to see you." Cuddy had finally made her way through the crowd.

"Good to see you, too", Wilson was confused about her formal greeting. "Everything alright?"

"Where's House?" Cuddy tried to suppress her anger. _It wasn't Wilson's fault, that House didn't turn up for work,_ she told herself.

"I don't know." He answered with a frown.

"He didn't show up for work. I asked him to be at my office at nine and I thought he wanted to cop out. But he still isn't here. He doesn't answer his phone, either." She couldn't help putting her hands on her hips.

James Wilson was speechless. Somehow this reminded him too much of the last time House did not answer the phone. "Not again", he mumbled.

"What?" Cuddy didn't have the time for a long discussion. "You got half an hour. Get him here!" She ordered and turned around.

Wilson stared after her. _So he was supposed to be babysitter and punching bag again?_ "Cuddy!" he followed her. "I can't go. There are three patients waiting for me."

"There are _three_ patients waiting for you?" she looked at him with wide eyes, then pointed to the waiting room. "There are about 40 patients waiting for two doctors in the clinic! Get. House. Here!"

"I gave him back his key", Wilson lied. He didn't mean to lie to Cuddy, but there was no way he could go to House's place now.

"What's going on?" Cuddy finally stopped and looked at Wilson. He saw that she didn't believe his lie.

"Nothing." _Another lie_. Wilson turned his eyes away from her. "I am _not_ his babysitter."

Cuddy lifted her eyebrows. "You're not?"

"I was. Kind of." Wilson was silenced by Cuddy.

"Get into my office", she said cooly. "This has to stop!"

**C**ameron and Chase looked at eachother when they passed Cuddy's office. The door was closed, but they could hear Cuddy and Wilson argue loudly. This was the first time they witnessed such a fight between these two.

"What happened", Chase whispered.

Cameron shrugged her shoulders. "I bet it's about House."

They tried to eavesdrop for a moment, but a group of students came their way and Cameron and Chase decided to get back to the conference room.

"**O**h great! Miss Altruism and Mister Nepotism decided to show up at work!"

Cameron winced at House's voice.

"We didn't know _you_ showed up." Chase rather attacked.

"So when I'm not around you don't see any reason to do your work?" House's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "What a great team I have!"

Foreman slipped a little deeper in his chair in the corner. Obviously he already had his share of House's insults this morning. Chase quietly sat down, but Cameron couldn't drag her eyes away from House. His hair and clothes were all messy, he had not shaved at all and out of a wound at his temple trinkled blood.

"What happened to your head? Maybe you should see a doctor." Cameron pointed to his temple.

"As it happens, I _am_ a doctor. And all I want is to see three doctors: with their asses on their chairs. Now will you please sit down, Dr. Cameron or do you need me to help you to a chair?"

Cameron opened her mouth to answer, but Chase pulled at her arm and mad her sit down.

"Thank you, Dr. Chase." House said and turned to face the white board.

"Differential diagnoses, please." The marker screeched on the board. "Acute dyspnea" House wrote and looked at his team.

"Who's the patient?" Cameron asked.

"Doesn't matter."

"We need the history", Chase insisted.

House thought he was either having a very courageous day or was just plain stupid. He decided on number two.  
"No history. The only person who could tell us something has lied already!"

Chase tried to argue, but House cut him short. "I want the differential diagnoses on acute dyspnea!" he barked. "Come on kids! What do I have you for?"

Slowly the three young doctors threw in their ideas.

"Pulmonary edema."

"Cardiac failure."

"Pulmonary hypertension."

House noted them all on the board, but was shaking his head. "That's not it!"

"Are there any other symptoms?" Foreman asked.

"We are not talking about other symptoms now. All we have is the dyspnea. What else?"

"Pulmonary damage from an accident?" Cameron threw in.

They went on for a while, but House always shook his head. When none of the ducklings had any more ideas. House threw them out of the room. "Go help Cuddy in the clinic. Haven't you seen all those people down there?"

Chase tried to protest, but his boss waved his cane at him and he left with the others.

House sat down in the corner, staring at the white board and rested his chin on his cane.

**W**ilson had lost. He had tried to win at all costs for the first time in a discussion with Cuddy, but the fact that he couldn't tell her what had happened made it diffcult to argue. He was worried sick about House, but did not want to surrender to him. House had made him promise not to help him again and Wilson knew he was only in for more insulting and mocking if he did. House would be fine. He always got through somehow.

Wilson still stood in Cuddy's office, his pulse racing, his eyes narrowed in anger. They had shouted at eachother throughout the discussion and Cuddy's voice sounded a little hoarse now.

"You'll go and get him, right now." The cold in Cuddy's eyes hurt Wilson.

_She knew House. Why didn't she understand that he couldn't go? _But the fight was over, there was no arguing anymore, so Wilson simply turned around and left the office. He would tell House he only checked on him, because Cuddy made him. House wouldn't believe him, though.

The picture of House sitting on his floor, shaking from alcohol and withdrawal came back to his mind. _What would have happened if House had the vicodin with him in first place? What had happened if House had the vicodin with him last night and got drunk again?_ Wilson sped up, almost running through the corridor. He would just kill House for letting him go through all this trouble!

"Don't you ever answer your beeper?" a rasp voice asked.

Wilson came to a halt right away. "House?"

"No, Jimmy. It's me, your mom!" House growled.

"Where are you? I had a fight with Cuddy about you." Wilson instantly knew that was wrong.

"Oh sweet. Who won me?"

"Cuddy", Wilson snarled.

"Jealous?"

"No, happy and relieved!"

"You sure don't sound like that."

Wilson just rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

"Don't roll your eyes. Come over to the conference room, will you? I need a consultation." House hung up.

**W**ilson turned and went to the conference room. He was still angry from the fight with Cuddy and was ready to take it all out on House. He yanked the door to the conference room open. The room seemed empty. Only the white board stood right in the middle, a list of illnesses written in House's familiar handwriting.

"That was fast, only 16 seconds." House's voice came from the corner.

Wilson turned around and startled. The sight of House took some of the anger out of him. He resisted the urge to walk over to him and check his wound. He would not show any signs of worry.

"Been close, " Wilson said and turned around to the white board. "Acute dyspnea?"

"Patient couldn't breath. Happened suddenly without forwarning."

"A patient of yours?"

"So to speak."

Wilson nodded. "History? Any accidents?" As far as he could see, the ducklings already got all the potential illnesses.

"You lied", House said quietly, but Wilson could hear a threatening undertone.

"About what?"

"I saw you leave the hospital with one of the young nurses."

"So?"

"So you lied!" House spoke louder, trying to keep up his selfcontrol.

"Yeah, I did. So what?" Wilson made it sound casual, but noticed how his fingers twitched and were slowly forming a fist.

"She is twenty years younger!"

"That's what's bothering you?"

"No. You're making a complete fool out of you."

"That's not your business!"

"You lied!" House barked.

"I did before, you didn't care."

"You lied about going out with a girl. That's different!"

"What's so different about that?"

House wiped the blood from his eye with the back of his hand, smearing it all over his cheek. Wilson already had one argument this morning and he was still in rage. This fight would be much uglier than the one with Cuddy, but this time he would win!

**C**ameron came back to the conference room, because she forgot her beeper, but when she heard the fighting inside, she just turned around and left for the clinic again.

**H**ouse and Wilson stood face to face, growling at eachother like animals. Wilson couldn't even remember every nasty word he had thrown at House, but he knew he had won. Not fairly, but if he walked out of the room now, he had made it!

He went to the white board and added two words, then left the room wordlessly.

House followed Wilson with his eyes and then turned back to the white board. He had known Wilson could add the missing words. James was a smart ass. What House didn't like were the words themselves. Wilson had written them in red and the letters were standing out from his blue writing, looking very threatening. House felt weak and automatically reached into his pocket to pull out his vicodin bottle. He took out two pills and looked at them, then he let one of them drop back into the bottle and swallowed only one. House knew he overdosed yesterday. If it hadn't been for Wilson he would have died. But Wilson had not really been there. House knew it when he had woken up in the morning, laying in his vomit, his fingers clawed into a pillow, desperately clinging to his hallucinated Wilson. It was in that moment he realized that it did more good than harm to have Wilson care for him. The situation would be embarrassing, degrading, pathetic and frightening and yet it would feel good - somehow. The problem was, for the first time ever Wilson did not _want_ to care for him. Or at least he did not want to show it.

**C**ameron opened the door to the conference room, encouraged by the quiet. She had seen Wilson running out of the elevator down in the hall and had hoped it would be safe to go back up. The room was empty, but the blinds of House's office were closed.

Cameron knocked. "House?" she asked carefully, half expecting to have him flinging one of his toys at her.

"Cameron." House voice sounded tired and very controlled. In fact he seemed too controlled and Cameron looked at him suspiciously.

"Are you okay?"

"Sure." House lifted his head that had rested on his cane and smiled at her.

"I –" Cameron was confused. "I forgot my beeper."

House lifted his eyebrows and his eyes widened in mocked astonishment. "In my office?"

"Uhm, no." Cameron blushed. "Sorry." She pulled bashfully at her lab coat and then left the office. She thought about turning around again, but didn't know what to say. Apart from being unusually calm and friendly, her boss seemed to be okay.

She grabbed her beeper from the table. Just as she turned to leave the room, her eyes fell on the white board. The red words seemed to jump at her. Cameron recognized Wilson's hand-writing. She thought about them for a second. Wilson was right, they had not thought of psychosomatic reasons. She wondered who the patient was.  
_Fear_ and _jealousy_ sure could cause a heavy and acute dyspnea!


	6. Chapter 6

**Play along: Chapter Six**

_Author's note: Thanks again for your reviews! It's great to know that people read and like this story._

_Summary: If Wilson thought his fights with Cuddy and House had ruined his day, House has news for him. Looks like Rebecca wasn't too happy about the outcome of their date._

* * *

**H**e was too tired and confused to get his head clear and Wilson wished he could just go home. His mind kept messing with his memories. The touch of House's fingers became much more intense everytime he thought of it. Was it really what _he_ felt? Or was it just what House wanted him to feel. He knew his friend could be very manipulative. House always found a way to play with his feelings and Wilson always felt bad. 

Even though Wilson kept denying the fact that there might be more to his feelings towards House than an ordinary friendship, somewhere deep inside a little voice told him that there indeed _was_ more to it.  
He rubbed his tired eyes. Wilson knew House would play with him, make him feel … things and then chase after him with his eager viciousness until he confesses. When he was down, House would laugh about him. Wilson was afraid. The little voice nagged _You are only afraid, because he can hurt you so easily. And he can only hurt you so easily, because it matters. House matters._

Wilson did not want to listen to that voice. He needed confirmation, that everything was okay, that there was nothing wrong with his feelings towards House. He wanted to know that he was not gay. Which of course he wasn't! And he was to prove it! And the easiest way to do so was Rebecca. He would let himself get laid. That would settle it!  
.

"**Y**ou're blocking the exam room." The door opened and House put his head in.

Wilson sighed. "Consider me gone." He got up and walked past House who had stepped into the room.

"Have a minute for a consult?" House asked and he sounded like nothing ever happened in the conference room earlier today.

"You already got your consult." Wilson tried to leave, but House held him back, pushing his cane against Wilson's legs. "Let go, House", Wilson said wearily. "I had enough fights for today."

"Who said I'm gonna fight?"

"You always do."

"I don't fight now."

"What is it?" he did not want to talk to House. "I got something to do."

"Ask your little friend out again?" House couldn't resist showing a little devilish grin.

"There you go again. I told you I don't wanna fight."

"I'm not fighting. I just wanna let you know the latest schmooze in the cafeteria."

Something in House's eyes made Wilson look up. "Schmooze?"

"Your girl wasn't very happy about how your date ended. Seems she missed a little action." House's grin widened. Same did Wilson's eyes.

"She's telling everyone that I didn't have sex with her? What would that be good for?"

"Oh, she's not only telling that you didn't sleep with her, she gives a reason, too."

"She's saying I am impotent?" Wilson stared in disbelieve.

"No, actually she's telling everyone, that you are gay." House's matter of fact manner stunnend Wilson almost more than the newest rumor.

"But I -" Wilson couldn't think of anything to say. "No one would believe that."

_How could a girl that just started to work at the PPTH tell such a lie? _He had a reputation. He wasn't proud of it, but still everyone knew him as a womanizer.

"She gives good reasons and people start to believe her. So many affairs without a girl lasting longer then a couple of weeks. Or was it days?" House started to walk up and down in the room. "Three wrecked marriages. And you always hang out with me."

"That's crap!" Wilson got angry. _Was this just another game of House to mess with his feelings?_

"Well, I don't know if it is. But it brings me back to the old question: did you try to kiss me?" House stretched his neck a little and looked at Wilson waiting for an answer.

Wilson's bewilderment was gone and all that left was anger. "I did _not_ try to kiss you. I told you about a hundred times. Stop playing this stupid game."

He didn't wait for House to answer. He pulled the door open and stomped out.  
.

**W**ilson was halfway through the hall when he noticed the people staring at him. He was breathing hard from his anger, he had red spots on his cheeks and his neck, his tie was not straight, neither was his coat. He slowed his pace and pulled at his tie. Two nurses were giggling. _Was House right? Did Rebecca really spread the rumors to get her revenge?  
.  
_

**T**he more hours past, the more Wilson noticed people were talking behind his back.  
He met Rebecca in the corridor later that afternoon, where she talked to two other young nurses. Her head up high with a smirk upon her face. Wilson turned his head away, he was too angry and too embarrassed to look at her.

When he past the conference room, he watched House and his ducklings for a few seconds. House had washed his face and put a bandaid on his wound. Wilson was proud of himself that he had kept at least enough self-control to not examine the wound. He had felt the urge to touch House's head though and he was not happy about that.

House sensed him standing out on the corridor and looked up. Their eyes met and Wilson could read the question:

_Did you try to kiss me?_

He shook his head and went back to his office.  
.

**T**he parking lot was dark, only the few street lamps cast a dim light. Wilson shuffled across the empty lot towards his car. The day did not end any better than it had started. He had almost been on his way home when a young man brought in his wife. She was doing fine in the morning, had developed a headache in the afternoon and collapsed in the early evening hours. The MRI showed a tumor of the size of a tennis ball right in the middle of her brain. Wilson had spend three hours mapping the tumor and the brain regions that were involved and all he could tell the husband was that his wife would never wake up again and she probably would be dead within two days. He hated these diagnoses. _Why did he have to be an oncologist?_

Wilson slammed his car key into the lock and opened the door. He tried to calm down a little but couldn't, so he just turned his key to start the car. The motor roared up for a second and then died again.

"No!" Wilson shouted and hit his fist against the steering wheel. He tried again, but there was not even a sound. "Not today", he mourned.

He looked back to the hospital. In the administration wing all lights were out. Only the doctors and nurses from the nightshift were still in the hospital. Wilson pulled out his cell phone and called a taxi. He did not want to sleep in his office tonight.

While waiting for his taxi to come, he wandered across the parking lot . _How could a day be so damn miserable?_ Wilson rubbed his neck, pinched the back of his nose and pushed his palms against his eyes. Non of his usual habits brought any relief.  
.

"**A**re you waiting for your boyfriend?" House asked with a broad grin. He sat in his car, the window opened wide. Wilson turned on his heels and wandered off to the opposite direction without answering.

"Come on Wilson, no need to be shy. He will show up! Who is he anyway?"

"Barney is his name. At least I think it is, because it's Barney's Taxi Service."

"Barney? The dinosaur? You don't look like you're in for some happy songs tonight."

"My car won't start. I want to go home. And I want you to get lost. What are you doing here anyway? It's way past five."

House shrugged his shoulders. "I was home by five already and thought I'd come back to check the test results of my patient."

Wilson stayed quiet.

"Jump in. I'll drive you home."

"No thanks."

"You do need a drink. Get into the car. We'll get you one. Or two."

House drove around Wilson and stopped next to him again. He opened the door from the inside to let Wilson in.

"No fighting. I promise." House said as Wilson hesitated.

"No tricks?"

"No tricks, no fighting. But you'll buy the drinks."

"Fair deal", Wilson nodded and got into the car.


	7. Chapter 7

**Play Along: Chapter Seven**

_Summary: House wants Wilson to relax ... and to admit._

* * *

**T**he lights flew by and Wilson blinked with half closed eyes. House had not said a word and Wilson enjoyed the silence. He knew that not-fighting was House's very own way to care. He felt cared about now and it felt good.

"It's been a horrible day", Wilson muttered, his forehead leaning against the cold glass. At a red light House stopped and turned to look at Wilson for a few seconds. A van behind him blew his horn a moment later and he had to pull his eyes away from him again. About fifteen minutes later House pulled up at a bar. He had not been here in a long time. He preferred the cheaper ones, but he wanted Wilson to relax.

"Come on. They got at least thirty different kinds of finest whiskey", he said cheerily.

Wilson moved slowly. "I don't wanna go in. I don't feel like being with people. Can't you just drive me home?"

"The girl behind the bar is a beauty, only legs and hair. Got a bit of mouth too, though."House winked and smirked, but Wilson remained silent and looked at him with his serious brown eyes.

"No thanks. I really want to go home."

House shrugged his shoulders. "Okay. Do you have any beer?"

Wilson shook his head and rested his forehead back on the glass.

"Then my place it is", House decided, turned the key and drove off to his apartment. Wilson wanted to protest, but then he let House have his way. For the first time in days he did not have to make any decisions or had to fight over some stupid things and he liked it.  
.  
.

"**D**rink it up", House demanded as he handed Wilson another beer.

"Can't. Anymore." Wilson slurred. House pushed the bottle into Wilson's hand. He knew Wilson had far too much, but then he really needed to relax.

Wilson took the bottle and tried to bring it to his mouth. He failed twice, succeeded at the third try and swallowed.

"Cuddy wanted me to check on you." Wilson didn't know why he said that. It sounded like an excuse for something he didn't even do. "You didn't show up at work this morning." Wilson's eyes went out of focus as he tried to fix on House's face. "But you've been already there, when I –" Wilson forgot how to finish the sentence. "I lost. Sorry."

House looked at him trying to find some meaning in Wilson's words. "Lost what?"

"The fight. She made me care about you." Wilson's head rolled back. He mourned when he felt the beer making its way back up to his throat.

"Uh-oh." House just nodded. Wilson's face slowly turned a pale shade of green and House wondered how he could get him into the bathroom. "Don't throw up here! Took me half an hour to clean my mess up this morning." He pushed himself up from the couch, took his cane and pulled at Wilson's arm. "Come on, help me. Just a little."

Wilson's head fell to his chest, but he grabbed House's hand and pulled himself up.  
.  
.

**H**uddled together they made it to the bathroom right in time before Wilson threw up.

"Shit", House said quietly. Maybe it was too much beer after all. He didn't want him to feel all miserable tomorrow.  
Wilson slid down to the floor and rested his head on the toilet seat.

"Aw, no. That's scuzzy." House shuddered and went over to pull Wilson back to his feet. Shifting his cane and Wilson between his hands, he got them both to the shower. He thought about undressing Wilson, but then just shoved him in and turned the water on.

Wilson gasped for air when the cold water hit his head. He tried to get out, but House pushed him back. It took about a minute before Wilson's head became a little clearer. The water slowly turned warmer and he relaxed.

"I'm all wet." Wilson whined. "Jerk!" he added angrily.

After a while House reached in and turned the water off. "Clean enough now, Jimmy."

Wilson trotted out of the shower and started to shiver immediately. House put a towel around his shoulders.

"I won't undress you," he growled as Wilson leaned against him, trying to steady himself.

"Wouldn't let you," Wilson snarled back.

House helped him to the door and had him leaning against the frame, then went off to the bedroom to get him some dry clothes.  
.  
.

**W**ilson's view was still blurred from the alcohol, but his head was recovering fast. A little too fast, he thought. He liked that cozy feeling when House stopped fighting and became more caring – sort of. Somewhere in his head an alarm went off, a cold and nasty sound that told him to keep away from House, not to give him more clues of how to make fun of him. But he did not want to hear it. Wilson pressed the towel to his face to muffle that sound. It didn't work and he pressed harder until he could hardly breath anymore. _I won't do or say anything_, he promised himself to hush the alarm. _I will just go to sleep._

"Here," he heard House say and the alarm rang even louder, hurt his ears and his brain. Wilson could feel House reaching for the towel, taking it away from him, but he pulled it back to his face, pushing his mouth and nose deep into the fabric.

"Get those dry clothes on or you'll catch a cold." House kept glaring at him.

"You worry about me?" Wilson mumbled into the towel.

"No, but Cuddy would scold me if she has to look for another oncologist."

"Nice."Wilson grabbed the shirt and the boxers and closed the door in House's face.  
.  
.

"**I** don't want to sleep on the couch!" Wilson slammed his head lightly against the doorframe. _Why the heck did he say that? Hadn't he just promised himself to keep out of trouble? _"Never mind", he mumbled quickly and scuffled into the livingroom.

"Where are you going then? Need a map?" House stopped him by pulling on his shirt and re-directed him towards the bedroom.

"No, it's okay," Wilson started waving his arms and pointing towards the couch. "I can sleep on the couch."  
But House didn't listen and pushed him to the bed. Wilson fell and landed on the soft mattress. Instinct kicked in and he grabbed a blanket and pulled it around him to protect him from the cold and – even more important – from these blue eyes.

Wilson was already half asleep when House slummed onto his side of the bed.

"Turn off the lights," Wilson mumbled when he pulled the blanket over is eyes.

House put his cane aside and dimmed the light before he turned into Wilson's direction. So this was another night that he would spend in his bed. House pulled up his blanket and stared into the dark. He could smell and feel Wilson close to him, but could not see him.  
.  
.

**T**he screeching brakes of a car out in the street woke Wilson. It took him a few seconds to realize where he was. He had a dream about House and that evening at the piano. House had played with his fingers. It had felt so real, that he could still feel his warm fingers on his. Wilson stopped. There _were_ fingers at his hand!

Just like the last time, he could feel the light touch of House's fingertips on his own. He slid over Wilson's fingers playfully as if he was to check his fingerprints. Wilson did not dare to move and listened for House's breathing. It was deep and slow and every now and then he could hear a little snore. He relaxed a little, House was asleep.

Wilson's head pounded from the alcohol, but that was just a little hang-over. He snuggled into his cushion and concentrated on the tender tickling feeling at his fingers. Even though he found this very relaxing, Wilson couldn't sleep. After a while he reached out a little further and his hand slipped into House's, holding it tight. House muffled a sleepy protest, but then squeezed his hand and slid back into his dream.  
.  
.

"**Y**ou're holding my hand."

Wilson woke up and saw House frown. "What?" he asked.

"Let go of my hand", House insisted.

"Oh." Wilson looked down to his fingers that were still entangled with House's. He loosened his grip a little and House jerked his hand away.

"What else did you do while I was asleep?" House grunted, but he hushed Wilson when he opened his mouth to defend himself. "I don't even want to know."

House climbed out of the bed and limped to the bathroom. Wilson stared after him. _That just wasn't fair!_ House had started to play with his fingers. He had just grabbed his hand to be able to get some sleep. Was he in for a next fight over 'trying to kiss House'? Wilson took a deep breath and pulled his hand back under the blanket.  
.  
.

"**D**on't you think you should finally admit it?" House steered the car through the thick traffic with breathtaking speed.

"What?"

"You're gay."

"I'm WHAT?" Wilson lifted his head that had rested against his seat. They were on their way to the hospital.

"You tried to kiss me, you held my hand, you don't have sex with a willing and far-too-young nurse. You're gay." House said it all matter of fact, there wasn't even a smirk on his face. And that was the fact that enraged Wilson the most.

"You held my hand first!"

"I didn't."

"Okay, you played with my fingers."

"Forget the hands, you tried to kiss me, you didn't have sex with the girl." House didn't even look at him.

"Great!" Wilson shouted. "Great! This goddamn day is only one and a half hours old and you already made it miserable for me!"

"No need to jump at me. These things happen: a man gets married – three times, gets divorced – three times, discovers he's gay. _That_ only happens once most of the times, though."

"I am _not_ gay!" Wilson gave up thinking about it. All that counted was to deny anything that House said.

"The whole hospital knows already."

"That's dirty gossip, because a stupid, cheeky girl got angry when I didn't wanna have sex with her."

"Why didn't you just do her?"

"Because I couldn't stop her talking to even kiss her."

"Did you try?"

"No!" Wilson yelled while House was still as calm as if he was discussing goldfish-food.

"You didn't try to kiss _her_, but you tried to kiss _me_." House tilted his head pondering.

"Aargh!" Wilson growled in a lack of words, his fists shaking in front of his face.

House shrugged his shoulders. "It might be hard first, but as soon as you come out with it, you'll be fine." The car stopped at the handicapped parking space and Wilson jumped out of the car. Another great day ahead of him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Play Along: Chapter Eight**

_Summary: House diagnoses a patient and Wilson doesn't like the diagnosis. Cuddy wants to talk with Wilson about some things that go on in his life._

* * *

„**D**on't even go up there!"

House had already pushed the up button of the elevator when Cuddy stepped into the closing doors and stopped him. "I need you in the clinic."

House rolled his eyes. "Not again." But there was no arguing with Cuddy.

"You're months behind again and we are two doctors short. Your first patient for today is in room four."

"I need my lab coat", House tried to argue, but Cuddy looked at him fiercely.

"You never wear one. Why would you want to break with that habit today."

"To make you happy!" House tipped his finger on Cuddy's nose like a mom would do to her kid. Cuddy shoved his hand away.

"Get serious and get into room four."

House grimaced, but left the elevator. The second elevator opened and for a split second he thought about going in with the other people and escape from Cuddy. He looked at her, but she knew what he was up to at once and pointed a finger at him, then at the clinic.

"Go!"

**H**ouse limbed over to the counter, picked up a file and disappeared in room four. A man in his forties leaned against the table. House sighed. That guy did not look sick, he was just plain nervous. The man tapped his fingers against the wood and only stopped to drive his hand through his hair over and over again. House noticed his chewed fingernails. The man looked up, then down again. House remained silent watching the guy, waiting for him to start whining. But the patient didn't say anything. He seemed to find a huge interest in the floor.

"Do you have a medical problem or have you just come here to study our floor?" House asked. "I know grey might not be fancy, but we've got some green linoleum on the second floor. Wanna go have a look?"

The man raised his head and looked at House in confusion.

"Oh, so you're not into green." House put his finger to his mouth, pretending to think. "What else do we have? Blue in one of the surgery rooms. A nice pattern in the cafeteria. And I do have carpet in my office. But I won't show you that!"

"I do have a problem", the man spurted out, eyes still on the floor.

"Oh, that's excellent!" House smiled a very false smile. "As it happens, I am a doctor and if you would tell me what your problem is, I might help you. If I am in the right mood."

"You see," the man started. "Things don't really work out. You know between my wife and I …"

"That's only natural. You're a man, your wife is – I assume – a woman. You should've known before your marriage." House shook his head. "Didn't work since Adam and Eve. Not that they had actually lived anyway. You know, women buy shoes and complain if you don't bring home presents every day and men like to be left alone on their couch."

"That's not it." Embarrassed the men now studied his hands. "I mean – at night, in bed -," he looked at House hoping he would know what he was talking about, but the doctor showed no sign of understanding. "Sex," he finally got it out. "It doesn't work. And I've been to three doctors already. They say, I'm fine. Nothing wrong."

The floor was his main focus again.

"You don't believe them?" House asked less sarcastic this time. He knew the diagnosis and it hit a soft spot somewhere. Not a very soft spot, but one that was definitely softer than others.

"Well, you know. 'Gigolos galore" - with movies like that it works. He works." The man pointed a finger between his legs.

House sighed. "Ever tried men?"

"What?" The man looked up.

"You're gay, man!" House growled. "Your wife doesn't interest you, but when you see these nice guys fucking eachother or some who-cares girls, you're at it. You're a puppy wagging its tail in excitement."

The man's jaw dropped and his eyes showed his anger. "How dare you?" But House hobbled out of the room, leaving the man yelling at him.

_Denial,_ House thought, _again_. 

"**W**hat's going on?" Cuddy was talking to Wilson at the front desk, when House came out of room four, followed by the bellowing of his patient.

"He's gay." House pointed back at the patient, but cast a glance at Wilson and then walked on to the elevator. "Doesn't like the diagnosis, though."

Wilson dropped his head into his hands. The glance from House's eyes was short, but somehow had lasted far too long for his taste and he knew he had read him like a book.

"What is he up to?" Cuddy asked, watching House disappear in the elevator. Wilson lifted his shoulders, then let them fall down again.

"I don't know", he lied. This was nothing Cuddy was supposed to know. Wilson thought Cuddy would know right away that he was lying and was relieved to see her walk up to House's patient to calm him down.

"Dr. Wilson, I'd like to see you in my office in five minutes", Cuddy informed him and then disappeared into room four with the patient.

**I**t seemed impossible to Wilson that Cuddy could be in her office five minutes later, but when he showed up, she was already behind her desk

"Have you been able to calm him down?" Wilson asked.

"Obviously." Cuddy answered shortly.

"What did you do?" _Whatever Cuddy had said to the accused patient might work for him, too._

"Nothing. When I came in, he already had accepted that House was right. He'll be divorced soon, but he'll be fine."

Wilson swallowed hard. How he hated House's diagnoses!

"I don't want to talk about the patient. I'd like to talk about you," Cuddy looked straight at Wilson. "There are some things going on that affect your work and I'd like to know what it is."

Wilson turned pale, then blushed, then turned white again. _Was he supposed to tell Cuddy about the night he almost kissed House? Or how House had played with his fingers and he had held his hand? _He could not do this. Wilson had no words for the things that went on between him and House.

"Cuddy", he began and lifted his hands in defense. "That's really not a thing I'd like t-"

"I know Rebecca gives you a hard time", Cuddy cut him short. "But you are old enough to stand above the gossip that a 19 year old nurse spreads in the cafeteria."

"Rebecca?" Wilson needed a few seconds to find that girl in one of the drawers in his brain where he had stowed her.

"Yes, I thought that's what is all about: the girl telling everybody you're gay." Cuddy looked slightly confused.

Wilson's brain spun from working so fast. "Yes, exactly. Rebecca! I just didn't know she was only nineteen."

"And House is making fun of you because of these rumors", Cuddy stated. "I'll have a word with him."

"No!" Wilson almost yelled. Cuddy lifted her eyebrows in alarm. "I'll deal with it." Wilson added before Cuddy could say anything.

"Okay. But deal with it fast! Right now I have two heads of department that are either fighting or just not doing their work."

Wilson nodded and trotted out of Cuddy's office. 

**W**ilson paused at the conference room and looked through the glass. The room was empty, but House's office door was open and he sat at his desk, throwing his tennisball up in the air over and over again.

Even though he had promised Cuddy to take care of the situation he was not in the mood to talk to House.They already had their fight today and Wilson was too tired to go another round. His head hurt from the hang-over. He put his hand on his forehead to cool it, but his hand was too warm. He was about to walk away when House stopped tossing the ball and looked straight at him. Their eyes locked and Wilson couldn't get away. With a sigh he opened the conference room door and walked into House's office.

"Have you thought about it?" House asked before Wilson could bring out a word.

"Don't start it again", Wilson said wearily. "I don't wanna fight. And Cuddy already is at it. She's mad because we don't do our work properly."

"I do my work. Don't know about yours, though." The ball flew up again.

"I do my work best I can right now. But I have to admit it's not the best I can do under the usual circumstances." Wilson tried to admit a little to sooth House. He felt like dancing around a bomb that might explode any second, careful not to light the fuse.

"And the usual circumstances would be _what_?" The tennisball wiggled and turned in the air after House gave it a little twist with his wrist. He was playing, not only with the ball, but with Wilson, too.

Wilson opened his mouth and closed it. He opened it again and then again didn't say a word.  
_What were these unusual circumstances?_ House teasing him? No, that was quite familiar. House fighting with him? Not unusual either. House telling him to admit he was gay. Yes, that was indeed a new turn in their relationship, but Wilson did not want to bring that up again.

House's beeper went off and the ball fell into his hands. He put it back on his desk and stopped playing. "Gotta go."

Wilson tried to stop him. "We need to talk, House."

"Opening and closing the mouth without saying a word is not called talking as long as you are not an aquatic creature. It could be _some_ kind of communication, though." House winked at him with a broad grin and limped out.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

_Note: There will be two chapters today. Yay! Well, these two aren't very exciting (I think), but it'll get better again. I promise. :)_

* * *

**"C**uddy, our sunshine and light of life we bow to!" House waved his arm to underline his pathos. 

"Took too many of them, again?" Cuddy answered dryly without looking up.

"Just thought I start the conversation a little friendlier than usual."

"Sit down."

"Okay, so we just fight hard and dirty." House stated, but Cuddy still didn't look up.

"I need to talk with you about Wilson. In the past it was mostly the other way round, but I think he's got a problem and you're not making it any better."

"Is it my job to worry about Wilson's problems? Hand me his files, I get my team to diagnose him."

"House, can't you be serious for one damn minute?" Cuddy fixed on his face. "This girl started the rumors about Wilson being homosexual and it obviously annoys him a lot. I already talked to her and she will start working in an other hospital next month, but we will still have to deal with her for another three weeks."

"You kick out the girl?" House's eyes widened. "Why?"

"Why?" Cuddy's voice sounded a pitch higher. "She keeps spreading rumors about Wilson."

"But she might be right!" House jumped up on his good leg and pulled his cane closer to steady himself. "He tried to kiss me." House didn't know why he brought it up. Maybe he needed Cuddys point of view on this. Maybe he just wanted to push this whole thing a little further.

Cuddy stared at him in disbelieve. "Have you completely lost your marbles?"

House held one hand protectively over his fly. "All there, but you won't get them," he pouted.

Cuddy rolled her eyes. She hated to deal with his childish behaviour. „So you're saying Wilson is gay?" Cuddy asked wearily.

"No, I said he was about to kiss me!" House retreated a bit.

"He" Cuddy paused a second, "_was about_ to kiss you?" She lifted her eyebrows doubtfully. "So Wilson has to be gay, because YOU think he _was about_ to kiss you?"

"Ye-es." House stretched the word. "Could be a good explanation."

She thought about it a few seconds and then got back to her work. "House, this is just one of your ego things. Just because you think you are irrisistable, doesn't mean everybody wants you."

"Are we really talking about sex now?" House's eyes widened in mocked horror.

Cuddy sighed and put the papers back down. "What do you want me to do? Fire Wilson because of sexual harrassment?"

"No, don't take the fun out of it."

"So far I thought this was only part of your sadistic behavior towards people, but what I really would like to know now is, do _you_ want Wilson to kiss you?"

House rolled his eyes. "That's not the point of this discussion. He wanted to kiss me."

"No, _you say_ he wanted to kiss you. That's a big difference."

"If you don't want to believe me, why did you ask me?" House turned around and hoppeled out of Cuddy's office.

"I didn't!" she yelled after him. "You started it!" Her office door slowly fell close. Cuddy stared at it for a few moments, then took a deep breath and looked down at her paperwork.  
.  
.

"**I** need to know."

Wilson looked up and saw House standing in his office door. "What?" he asked, still in thought. This application for the annual education fond was tricky and Cuddy asked for his help to get the money for the next year.

"Did you try to kiss me?"

Wilson slumped his head into his hands. "Will you ever let it go?"

"No," House shook his head.

Wilson remained silent.

"Did you?" House asked again.

"Do you _want_ me to kiss you?" Wilson's tired voice indicated that he was about to break and House paused for a second. _Could he go any further with this?_ Yes, he could! This was Wilson.

"Cuddy asked the same question just a few minutes ago."

"What did you answer?" Wilson looked up. Then something clicked inside his head. He jumped up. "You talked with Cuddy about that?" he shouted and his eyes narrowed in anger. "What the hell did you tell her?"

House took a step backwards, but still looked his cool and calm self. "Well, she asked me if she should fire you for sexual harrassment." He studied his fingers, ignoring Wilson who stood fuming in front of him.

"You", Wilson started, but fell silent lacking words for his anger.

"I could talk her out of it, though", House went on, his voice sounding completely innocent. He looked back up and his eyes met Wilson's.

"You", Wilson started again, waving his arms angrily at his friend. "You talked her out of it? Do you want me to be thankful for that, now?"

"Would that include a thankful kiss?"

"I _did_ not want to kiss you that evening!"

"You didn't then? But you want it _now_?"

"NO!" Wilson felt helpless.

"No need to shout", House lifted his hands in defense.

Wilson shook his head. "You actually told Cuddy that I - I sexually harrassed you! What will she think of me now?"

"As if Cuddy would believe me anyway. But besides that, what does it matter? You don't have to pretend to be so darn perfect all the time."

"I'm not pretending that I'm perfect, House!" Wilson looked at the door and weighed up the chances of throwing House out of his office.

"You are! Not admiting that you have done something that others might frown upon is pretending you're perfect."

"Again. I'm not pretending to be _perfect_!"

"But _not gay_?"

"Yes!" Wilson was happy to finally be able to agree to something.

"So you do admit you are only _pretending_ that you are not gay?"

Wilson was furious. "You keep twisting my words!" he shouted. "Get out of my office, right now!" He pushed his friend out and slammed the door shut behind him. He didn't care if House's leg hurt, if he tripped over the cane and broke his leg – or even his neck. Wilson finally had enough. He cursed the night he went to check on House. _Why did he go? Why did he help him? Why did everything get so out of hand?_

Wilson leaned his back to the door and held his face in his hands. His eyes were filled with tears, that he did not allow to come.


	10. Chapter 10

**Play Along: Chapter Ten  
**.  
.

**T**he next few days went quietly. Wilson avoided House whenever he could. On the few occasions they met on the corridors he turned away. House made no attempt to talk to Wilson either. Foreman and Chase watched the two heads of departments in wonder while Cameron was worried.

None of the two doctors pretended that everything was going smoothly, but both tried to not let it influence their work. Two new patients with tumors kept Wilson busy and a mother of six with recurring blackouts made House's working hours fly by.

Cuddy glared into their offices suspiciously whenever she could. House had not even tried to get around his clinic duty the last two days. He was unusually calm and to Cuddy this was no good sign.

The rumors about Wilson being gay did not stop. His gloomy mood seemed to spark that little fire to keep the gossip alive. His well known wide smile that brought a twinkle to his warm eyes and the comforting voice that made so many girls fall for him was gone. He did his work, but did not seem to be in it with his full heart anymore.

Rebecca was taken aback the first two days after she had been told that she had to leave, but by now she was back to good spirits again. Wilson's behavior seemed to support her story and whenever he walked by, she would throw a triumphant smile at him.  
.  
.

"**W**ilson, it's only two more weeks. Do you want to take that time off?" Cuddy asked.

He looked up. "Two more weeks?"

"Yes, we can't make her go earlier. All I could do was make her work the nightshift." The frown on Cuddy's face showed that she was worried and felt helpless. She had tried to talk to the board to fire that nurse. That little girl had caused so much trouble and she could do absolutely nothing to stop that. The smirk on that young face made her cringe, too. And she knew it must be even worse for Wilson.

"I don't want to take the time off," Wilson finally answered. It had taken him a few seconds to understand what Cuddy was talking about. Of course Rebecca annoyed him and he hated to see her grin, but he was much more upset about his fight with House. Wilson was so afraid that this situation could go on forever that he had not slept in days. He did not dare to go near House, because they might start a fight again. Or even worse, House could look him in the eyes, reading his mind. Wilson had no idea what House would read in his mind though, because he was so cofused, that his own thoughts didn't even make sense to himself. He wanted to avoid House, his eyes and his sharp comments, but he was suffering from the distance between them at the same time.

All the thoughts and emotions of these two nights he had spend at House's place came rushing back to him, mixing with snatches of their fights and with his own longings. Everything tossed around in his head like a set of lottery balls. Every now and then one of those balls would fall out and show him his number, presenting him a clear memory. _And our lucky number today is: You held his hand!"_ Wilson closed his eyes, but the picture of his hand holding Greg's would not go away, he blinked and then noticed that Cuddy was still in his office.

"There is more to it than that girl," she stated. "I know that House gives you a hard time, but he'd done this before and you did better than you're doing now."

"I'm sorry, Cuddy. I don't want to talk about it." Wilson shook his head and the lottery balls started to swirl again. _And our lucky number today is: you are gay!_

"No!" Wilson said it out loud.

"What no?" Cuddy glared at him.

"Nothing." He rubbed his face with both hands and pressed his thumbs on his eyes. "I'm just tired."

"You keep lying to me for days now. You might think I didn't notice, but I did. So if this is something you really don't want to talk about with me, then go find someone else." Cuddy cast him a last long glance and went out of the office.

"I don't have anyone else," Wilson mumbled, feeling hopelessly lost in his lottery.  
.  
.

"**D**r. Cameron, I would apreciate if you could focus on the symptoms instead of the pathetic whining of our patient." There was no sarcasm in House's tired voice. He kept insulting his ducklings, but his usual delight of tormenting them was gone.

Cameron drew in her breath and was about to protest, but Chase hushed her with a glance.

"The respiratory problems got worse. The patient won't be able to tell us anything more in a few hours. We should question him again." Chase was backing Cameron up. She nodded to thank him, but still pouted, because she wasn't allowed to report the new development of their patient herself.

"The patient already lied to us twice and he could save his breath for a little – well, breathing – I guess." House argued.

There was a small muscle at his temple that twitched as Wilson entered the conference room, but House went on as if nothing had happened. "Forman and Chase you go and check on her ex-husband. I'd like to know if he has any symptoms. As far as we know he was the last one who –" House stopped and looked at his team. All three doctors had stopped listening to him and watched Wilson closely as he went to get some coffee.

"The human mind works in most mysterious ways sometimes," House mused on and slammed his cane against the white board for attention. "Astounding how most males are not able to multitask. As I have noted the only one who could do three things at the same time was Cameron: she could watch Dr. Wilson get his coffee, twiddle her hair around her fingers AND manage to hold her pen up. On the other hand there are two males that needed all their brain activities to concentrate on Wilson and his coffee."

The eyes of the ducklings went back to House again, Cameron blushed a little and put her pen down.

"Aww, " House managed a sad look. "Don't put it down Cameron. The three way multitasking was amazingly good." He slammed his cane angrily to the ground. "But it would have been perfect if you had managed four things and payed a little attention to our meeting!" House shouted.

"I'm sorry," Cameron started. "I just thought Dr. Wils-"

"No need to cry," House interrupted her. He went on with his orders and then sent his ducklings away.  
.  
.

"**W**hat are you doing here?" House asked gruffly without looking at Wilson.

"Got me some coffee."

"You've been avoiding me for five days now. You got your coffee in the cafeteria. Don't tell me you lost your way or something."

"The coffee up here is much better." Wilson tried to look at House, but most of the time he let his eyes drop to the floor.

House kept himself busy with cleaning the white board. "Liar. Cameron made it today and it's lousy."

"We need to talk." Wilson took a deep breath before he could look up again. House had his eyes fixed on his face and Wilson felt uneasy, but did not look away. He had prepared himself and he would not let the hurt and the feelings show in his eyes. His eyes were blank.

House tilted his head a little, still looking at Wilson, trying to find something in his gaze, but he couldn't. He gave up on Wilson's thoughts and shrugged his shoulders. "Okay, you're pretty good at it today."

Wilson felt relieve and House saw it at once, he smiled for a spilt second and then looked serious again.

"I don't want to fight anymore," Wilson said calmly. "I had told you before, but you've started fighting again."

"You started yelling the last time."

"And you know very well why."

"Denial," House said simply.

Wilson rolled his eyes and put his coffee down. "Stop it."

Nodding House trotted of into his office. He closed the door and Wilson was left alone in the conference room. _That went way better than I had hoped_, Wilson thought and watched House pick up his tennis ball and threw it straight in the air.


	11. Chapter 11

**Play Along: Chapter Eleven**

_Summary: Rebecca is getting out of hand, but House puts an end to it._

* * *

**T**he giggling of a bunch of nurses made Wilson look up. He had spent all afternoon with his patients, did tests and x-rays and it was already five o'clock when he could start on his paper work. He wanted to get home as soon as possible and had worked very concentrated until these giggles had started.

He waited for a few minutes for it to stop, but instead of ebbing away, the nurses burst into laughter, then giggles again. Wilson couldn't work like this. The girls were not supposed to be in the administration wing at all, but usually Wilson didn't mind.

He was tired and only had a few files left. He opened the door a crack to peer out, but the moment his door moved the group of girls scattered away. Wilson found himself face to face with only Rebecca. She smirked and put her hands onto her hips, staring at him provocatively.

"What's going on?" Wilson's eyes followed the running girls, then went back to Rebecca. When she just kept grinning at him wordlessly, he looked around and saw his door. The girls had messed with the writing. According to the changes, this office now belonged to "Jane Wilson MD". Below the name was an old photograph of Wilson pinned to the door. On the picture he was wearing sketched ponytails and a dress. He lifted his eyebrows and looked back at Rebecca. "Don't you think this joke has gone a little too far?"

"Don't _you_ think you should've thought about that before?" Rebecca still grinned maliciously.

"You're doing all this, because I didn't have sex with you after we had dinner?" Wilson couldn't believe it. "We only had dinner, no big deal!"

Her eyes narrowed and Wilson knew instantly that his words were wrong. "I mean, it was our first time out." He tried to correct it, still trying not to hurt her feelings, although she tried everything to make his life miserable.

"You're just a joke, James Wilson, and I'll get me a real man!" She stalked off and Wilson let his head fall against the door. This girl was a nightmare! What made him go out with her in first place? He thumbed his fist against the door. She had the girls on her side with this joke and if she would find a man from the hospital to go out with her, she might take the stupid joke to the guys as well. Wilson knew that most people would not really believe her, but there were enough girls he had dumped and enough guys who were jealous.  
_Two weeks_, Cuddy had told him and Wilson thought about taking the time off after all.  
.

"**Y**ou okay?"House suddenly stood next to him. Wilson jumped, he hadn't heard him coming. He nodded wearily.

"Okay," House tilted his head to look around Wilson. "... - Jane. You've changed a bit since this picture was taken, hm?"  
Wilson didn't answer, he turned around and went into his office. House followed. "I'm really glad I don't have a girl's name like you."

"Shut up." Wilson fell into his chair behind the desk. "What are you doing here anyway, House. It's late."

"I've noticed that. The nightshift is around already." House pointed to the door where the nurses have been moments before. "I would've thought a smart boy like you would keep away from that girl."

"I did keep away. _She_ was the one who did the undesired gender change." Wilson flipped his fingers through the papers and then pushed them over to one side of his desk. He would do those tomorrow.

"What are you gonna do?" House asked with a slight frown.

"Going to go home. It's been a long day." Wilson stripped off the lab coat and put on his jacket.

"Will you come over to my place? We can have a beer and watch a movie." House watched Wilson closely.

"No."

"You can have more than one beer, too."

"No!" Wilson had no intention whatsoever to get himself into trouble again.

"I won't fight," House said innocently.

"You promised the last time and you did anyway." Wilson shook his head.

"I didn't! You had to much beer, I took you to the bathroom and watched you puke your heart out and then cleaned you."

"Cleaned?" Wilson protested. "You shoved me under the shower and dumped cold water on me."

"Well, but I didn't fight."

"You fought the next morning." Wilson jingled his keys and pointed House to the door.

"I never promised to be nice the next morning." House limped through the door and Wison turned the key.

"See, I don't want to fight tomorrow, either." Wilson went to the elevator, leaving House slightly behind.

"We can fight tonight, and I'll be nice tomorrow!" House said loudly to Wilson's back. "How about that?"

"I don't wanna fight at all! I'm so sick of fighting. You keep bugging me and stupid Rebecca's annoying me. All I want is to go home and get some sleep."

"You can get some sleep at my place." House hit the elevator button when Wilson stopped and stared at him. He could not believe how House was playing with him.

"Why don't you shout a little louder," Wilson snapped. "I'm sure this is the perfect conversation to lead to even more rumors." The elevator door slid open.

"Then maybe you shouldn't be in here with me – alone!" House pushed Wilson back out, leaving him behind puzzled as the doors closed. Wilson watched the digits fall as the elevator brought House to the ground floor.  
.  
.

**T**wo male nurses stood at the desk in the hall. Their conversation stopped when Wilson finally stepped out of the elevator. He clenched his teeth for a second, then looked back at them. "Good night," he said politely and left the building.

The cold night air felt good on his face, and Wilson thought about going for a walk before he drove home.

"What are you waiting for?" House's voice came out of the dark and Wilson jumped.

"Dammit, House. Stop scaring me like that."

"Looks like there's somebody waiting for you at your car," House pointed his cane to the parking lot and Wilson followed the hint. Again three of the young nurses. Wilson started to run.

"What are you doing?" he shouted, afraid that they would smudge his car like his office door. Two girls ran away when he came closer, but Rebecca just walked away calmly. Wilson saw the lipstick on the windshield and the eyeshadow above the lights. The girls had given his car a perfect make-up. He rubbed his forehead as he helplessly stood in front of his car. When he looked around again to Rebecca, she was almost back at the hospital entrance.  
A cane suddenly stopped her stride. House stepped up and was merely inches away from her. Wilson couldn't hear a word, but Rebecca started to back away with a startled look upon her face. House continued talking and finally Rebecca fled with a horrified face into the hospital.  
When House turned around to him, Wilson answered his broad grin with a smile. He looked down for a second and shook his head with a chuckle. Wilson wondered what House had told her, but when he looked back up to walk over to him, House hoppled off down the parking lot.  
Wilson did not follow, but watched him dissapear into the darkness.


	12. Chapter 12

**Play Along: Chapter Twelve**

_Note: Thanks everyone for the reviews. I guess putting up two chapters at once (9+10) wasn't the best idea. Some people just skipped chapter nine. Maybe they haven't seen it online and just skipped to the latest chapter. I won't do it again._

_One review made me laugh: House did not threaten Rebecca with an MRI, it was rather a ... uhm ... "deep lumbar punction". Not literally, but you can read it yourself. Here it is:_

* * *

**E**ven though his night was short, Wilson felt good when he walked to his office the next morning. Whatever House did or said to Rebecca, he had done it for him. This did not happen often and Wilson enjoyed it. 

His door still sported the name of Jane Wilson, but the picture was gone. He unlocked the door and went into his office. The balcony door was still ajar from last night and the air was cool and fresh. When he took off his jacket and reached out for his lab coat, he saw House was already in the hospital, standing out on the balcony, gazing out into some nothingness.

Wilson put his lab coat back down and stepped out. House didn't move and his eyes were still fixed on something far far away. With a few steps Wilson was beside him. He leaned his elbows on the hand rail, right next to House's and looked straight out to the point that House looked at. There was nothing.

For a minute Wilson just stood in silence. He was aware of his shoulder touching House's. _Far too aware of it_, Wilson thought. "What did you tell her?" he finally asked.

House didn't move. "Asked her out on a date."

Wilson just lifted his eyebrows in surprise.

"First she was at it, but then I told her what I wanted to do with my cane and I think that scared her away for some reason." House's voice sounded dead serious and Wilson had to suppress a snort, he turned his face to House and saw that smile on his face. Then House turned his head too and they stared grinning at eachother, their eyes locked: blue meeting brown.

House's face was so close that Wilson backed away a little when he felt the urge to touch him, to kiss him. He turned away and gazed out into the sky again.

"I don't think she'll bother you again." Wilson heard House's voice, but couldn't take in the words anymore when he felt the almost familiar feeling of House's fingers playing with his. It started with a slight touch at the side of his little finger, then he felt the light prodding of House's finger tips on his own. He could feel the rhythm, it was like House was playing the piano, but instead of the keys, he tipped against his fingers.

Wilson didn't dare to look at his hand or at his friend's face. He stretched his fingers a little and House's fingers followed, he bent them and they followed again. It was a game and Wilson played along for a while. Then he turned his palm upwards and waited, House's hand slipped into his.

"I didn't do anything," Wilson pointed out as he finally glanced at their entwined fingers.

"Oops, guess it was me this time," House shrugged his shoulders, still glaring into the sky. "But you tried to kiss me the first time." He grinned and turned around to face Wilson.

Wilson sighed. "I knew you wouldn't let that go."

"'Course you knew, I've told you so."

**T**hey spent another few minutes in silence. Wilson wondered what would happen when they would let go. Would House turn back on him and start fighting? The thought only lasted for a second. It felt too good to be so close to him. He breathed in House's smell and leaned a little closer to catch more of it. His head tilted and almost hit House's shoulder.

"Can I …?" he asked. "Just for a minute."

House nodded with a slight smile on his face and Wilson leaned his head against his shoulder. He closed his eyes and felt the tension of the past days fall off him.

"Not gay, hm?" House mumbled.

"Maybe a little," Wilson answered softly, too lazy to move or talk.  
.

**H**ouse let out a low growl when he heard someone come into Wilson's office. He lifted his shoulder and pushed Wilson away a little. "Minute's over," he said shortly and looked over to the glass door.

Wison lifted his head and felt House's hand slip out of his.

"Wilson?" Cuddy stepped out onto the roof. "There you are. Can I talk to you for a minute?"

_A minute_. Wilson tried to shake off the cozy feeling of being so close to House. "Sure," he answered, but didn't move. He was still only about an inch away from House and he could still feel his warmth. Wilson did not want to go away.

"In your office?" Cuddy pointed back to the door. "Under four eyes."

House looked up. "You two got secrets? Or is it still this sex thing going on between you?"

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Is sex all you can think about?"

House shrugged his shoulders. "Well, under the given circumstances …"

Wilson coughed and blushed. This was far more than what _he_ had thought about. Far more than what he had allowed himself to think about. He scrambled over the wall and followed Cuddy into his office. He didn't dare to look back at House.  
.

"**I**'m glad that you and House finally stopped fighting," Cuddy started the conversation. Wilson looked away and barely nodded.  
"And the whole story with Rebecca's over as well," she continued. "She called this morning and asked for two weeks off. I gladly agreed and already sent her papers over to the hospital she'll start working at in two weeks."

Wilson barely listened to her. He was still confused about the little scene outside a few minutes ago. "Good," he simply said, keeping his eyes on his fingers.

"I thought these news would take some weight of your shoulders. I don't know what happened that made her change her mind, but she's gone and the gossip will end soon." Cuddy looked at Wilson suspiciously.

"Yes, it might end." Wilson agreed unconvinced.

"If there is anything else you want to talk about …" Cuddy put a hand on his shoulder.

"No, no. I'm fine." Wilson shrugged her hand off.

_Another lie_, Cuddy thought, but she turned and left his office with a concerned look.  
.

**W**ilson was confused like never before. Until a little earlier, he had thought that House only played with him, took an advantage of a weakness, that Wilson had shown some days ago. Now he wasn't so sure after all. House had let him come closer than ever before. And it had been him to take his hand. He had not even rejected Wilson, when he had leaned his head on his shoulder.

Wilson put the pieces together like a puzzle: House liked him. Liked him in a much different way than this friendship had been so far. _But this could not be!_ Wilson ripped the pieces apart again and tried to put them back together in an other way, there must be another explanation for House's weird behavior.

A knock on his door caught his attention.

He saw the cane first, then House's head showed up in the door. "Hey."

"Hey." Wilson stopped pacing his office. He had not even noticed that he had started to run up and down.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure." Wilson went back behind his desk and sat down. He felt much safer there with something beween him and House, somewhere to hide. House took a few steps into the office and stopped about half way to Wilson. Neither of them said a word, both were staring at the floor.

After a while Wilson started to examine his hands. There was no sound from House. Wilson looked up to him and found himself closely watched by these bright blue eyes. He held the gaze for a few seconds, then turned away again.

"What now?" House asked in a low voice.

Wilson looked at him in surprise. He had not expected a question like that. Mostly he had thought House would just pretend it had never happened. Mocking him would have been another possibility, but actually talking about it seemed so out of character, that Wilson had not thought about that. Instantly defence kicked in. Wilson was too afraid, House would start tormenting him with those stupid questions again.

"Nothing," Wilson answered quickly. "Forget about it."

House's eyebrows went up. "Forget it?"

"Yes, it was stupid."

"You told me you're gay and obviously you see more in our friendship than there was before." House's eyes were fixed on Wilson.

"Listen, this Rebecca thing really wore me out and I felt a little lonely lately. Just forget it. It was nothing." Wilson drew his eyes away and lifted his hands.

"Uh-uh." House looked another second at him, then turned and hobbled out of the office.

As hard as Wilson tried, he couldn't ignore the hurt look in his friend's eyes.


	13. Chapter 13

**Play Along: Chapter Thirteen**

_Author's note: So to answer the big question why I don't update everything in one big chapter ... I think it helps the story to be devided in chapters ... and I adjust the formatting every day for each new chapter ... aand I like getting reviews for the chapters to know what you people liked and what not ... and (a big 'and' here) I guess I AM a little sadistic and like you to wait for the updates ;)_

_Summary: Wilson calls for a consultation, who could have guessed there was a patient involved..?_

* * *

**C**ameron sat at the table in the conference room and went through some papers, but she couldn't concentrate. Her boss was in his office and tossed a ball against the glassy wall over and over again. 

When House had come in, he had rushed wordlessly past her into his office. He had thrown three balls against the wall without catching them again, he had smashed his yoyo to the floor and then had started to toss this last ball.

Cameron looked over to him. She couldn't tell what was on his mind, he had completely retreated in his own shell. Whatever troubled him was not supposed to be her problem and he would not tell her anything. She just wished she could help him, but all those years she had tried to get closer to him, he had just pushed her away.  
.  
.

**H**is beeper went off. Gregory House caught the ball and paused his monotonous game to glance at the small display. Wilson called for a consultation.  
He stopped the beeping and started to toss the ball again, ignoring Wilson's request. House really had to think, but he couldn't think when Wilson was around right now.

He was so sure that there was more than just their plain friendship. He had not seen it before or maybe it had not been there all those years, but it definately was there now. House had noticed when Wilson held him while he was shaking from the withdrawal. When his head had become a little clearer, he had understood. But House had not been able to believe it until the jealousy had taken his breath away when Wilson had gone out with Rebecca.

Wilson's confession this morning on the balcony settled it – for House. Obviously Wilson was not through his state of denial yet, but House wasn't willing to wait anymore. It wasn't a big emotional thing, he told himself, but Wilson was his and he had to convince him of that fact before that boy lost his head and married again.

His pager beeped again and again Wilson's name showed up. With a sigh House put his tennisball back on his desk and raised to his feet. He might as well check what Wilson wanted.  
.  
.

**H**ouse felt much better since he had figured out what had made him so miserable the last few weeks. Now he only had to make sure, Wilson would understand, too. With the minutes on the balcony and Wilson's confession that he might not be completely straight at all, this task seemed pretty easy to House. Of course Wilson's denial afterwards had hurt him and complicated things a little, but he would get there.

His spirits were still high as House walked through the hall towards the exam rooms. On his way he chased away two kids with his cane and then flashed a smile at Cuddy who stood at the desk, obviously surprised by his presence in the clinic.

"Consultation," he mouthed and pointed to room number two.

House threw open the door and found himself face to face with a half-naked stranger.

The patient was sitting on the table, his dress shirt open, while Wilson was digging for a swab in the drawer.

"What's he doing here?" House asked surprised.

"I called you for a consultation." Wilson's voice stayed calm although he sensed there was trouble on its way.

"I didn't know there was a patient involved."

"When one doctor calls another doctor to get his opinion on the patient's symptoms, that's what we call a consultation."

"Get out." House turned around to the confused patient and pointed to the door. The man didn't move. "Get out!" House barked and his eyes glowed menacingly at him.

The patient looked over to Wilson, who nodded reassuringly. "Please wait outside. I'll call you back in, as soon as I introduced your symptoms to Dr. House."

The man pulled his shirt close and slipped out the door without rebuttoning it. As soon as the door closed behind him, Wilson glared at House angrily. "What do you think you're doing kicking my patient out like this?"

"I wouldn't have come down here, if I'd known that you wanted to talk about a patient!" House shouted back.

"What did you think? That we would have a … a party down here? What's wrong with you?" Wilson threw the swabs on the table. "Not that I ever would've called you sane, but lately you're completely off the wall!"

"Oh so we are back to the beginnings? I thought we had some things settled this morning!" House slammed his cane on the metal table and stared at Wilson.

"Don't start that again!" Wilson lifted his hands and shook his head. "I told you to forget abot it!"

"You started that about two weeks ago. And I won't forget about -" House was cut off when the door burst open. Cuddy came in, looking furious.

"Will you two shut up _right now_! A half naked patient waits for you outside and you're shouting can be heard in the whole clinic. Even people at the front door turn their heads to see what is going on here! You're _not_ gonna turn this clinic into some kind of freak show." She did not lift her voice, but her words were sharp and cold. House and Wilson both looked down to the floor.

"You two got five minutes to end your discussion. Then I'll send the patient back in, no matter what happens in here."  
The door closed with a sharp sound.

"Great. Now everyone in the hospital got this." Wilson turned away from House and looked out of the window.

"Five minutes. Got anything to say?" House watched him.

"This is absolutely ridiculous," Wilson started, not even sure what he wanted to say. "You are playing with me for weeks now. You are moody, you fight and you tell me I - … I got feelings for you. I'm not one of your tennisballs that you can toss and that bounces and comes right back to you."

House played with the handle of his cane, turning it with his fingers.

"I admit," Wilson continued, "that I was confused, but this has to stop and life has to get back to normal again. At least as normal as it has been with you."

"So what?"

"What?" Wilson finally turned back around to face House. "What? Nothing! I'll get over three broken marriages and this Rebecca thing and you'll get over whatever bothers you. You'll get drunk and overdose every now and then and I'll go out with some girl and … and … and then I go out with another girl." He grabbed the swabs he had thrown on the table and put them back into the drawer.

"You can't go out with another girl!" House looked at him aghast.

"Of course I can. I will see Sandy from accountancy for lunch and I'll ask her out on a date. I will _not_ play along to your stupid games and tempers anymore."

"Ah, that's stupid!" House frowned and slammed his hands on the table. "Don't start that girl-dating again. It hasn't _ever_ made you happy."

"It has," Wilson almost pouted, but wondered anyway when he was last happy, dating a girl. He couldn't remember, they all had bored him somehow after a while.

"You could go out with me. Would be less boring." House pointed his hand to his chest and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Wilson grinned uneasily. "You ... you want to ask me out on a date?"

"No, I said _you_ could ask _me_ out on a date."

"Why would I want to ask you out?"

"Because you love me!" House's mocking puppy eyes made Wilson snort. "And because I won't ask you," House added more seriously.

Wilson knew House had made clear what he wanted and he wouldn't go another step further before Wilson made his move. At least not without fighting.

"Okay," Wilson finally gave in and decided to play along one more time. "Let's go out and get a drink somewhere tonight."

"That doesn't sound like a date-date." House pouted, but the slight upturn on the corner of his mouth told Wilson, that he was highly satisfied.

"It's a men's date. It'll spare you to wear a dress," Wilson answered without really noticing the meaning of a "men's date".  
He tossed the patient's chart over to House. "Back to work. Patient's got eczema and neurological skin problems."


	14. Chapter 14

**Play Along: Chapter Fourteen**

_Author's note: It's getting a little sloppy now, but hey it's a date, remember?!_

* * *

**H**ouse was ready to go fifteen minutes too early. He told himself, that it would be just another evening with Wilson, but he could not deny the happy feeling of anticipation. He had even shaved – a little. He had left some kind of beard-formed stubble, but shaved his cheeks. He had tossed his jeans back onto the bed and put a pair of black trousers on.

Wilson was right on time and he was looking good, House noticed as he opened the door.

"Ready to go?" Wilson said casually, but House could sense his nervousness. He looked at the suit Wilson was wearing. Nothing too fancy, but still not an everyday suit.

"Sure," he answered and locked the door behind him. "Where are we going?"

"Cannigan Mules."

House raised his eyebrows. "That's a good one." He had been to that Spanish restaurant only once and that has been years ago with Stacy. He leaned back into the seat and watched the street lights fly by.  
.  
.

**W**ilson did not say a word. He didn't even know what to say. This was just House, but still it felt different tonight. Wilson scolded himself for letting House manipulate his feelings so much, but he still couldn't deny that his stomach told him, that this evening was different than the hundreds they had shared before.

It took them both a while before they started to speak. Waiting for their dinner, they first darted looks at the menue, then looked out of the window.

"How's that carcinoma girl?" House asked when the silence started to become awkward.

"Better." Wilson took another sip of his water. "She'll die anyway. Let's talk of something else."

"Hmm." House was thinking, thinking fast, but could not come up with anything. He wasn't too eager to bring up the eczema guy, either. Or even worse, their strange relationship.

"Did you know Dr. Lenshire from gynaecology talks to the flowers in his office?" Wilson asked suddenly.

House was puzzled for a second, then a grin spread on his face. "Trans-species-communication. A very interesting piece of research."

Wilson grinned back. "Results are yet to be published, but I heard his violets show signs of elementary understanding and the orchids refused trans_plant_ation."

Meaningless as this piece of communication was, it helped a lot to get them to talk. They had never been the chit-chatting kind and always enjoyed the other ones presence even without talking, but at least the awkward silence was gone.  
.  
.

**W**ilson relaxed and forgot about the strange fact that he was out on a date with his best friend – at least for a while. They mainly ate in silence. A warm and content silence of people who knew each other very well.

It wasn't until the dessert when Wilson looked up into House's face and remembered this was more than just the usual dinner they shared. House looked back at him, somehow beaming. Wilson turned his head, but he was instantly drawn back to House's gaze. It felt good and it felt safe now. In fact Wilson had not felt this happy in the last few years. Except … except for that moment he had put his head onto House's shoulder.

Astounding as it seemed, House's smile was comforting and Wilson smiled back.He saw that little twinkle in his eyes and they only showed happiness and … - love. Wilson was puzzled and did not know if he really wanted to see it, but it was obviously there. And what confused him the most was the fact that it was he himself who brought it to House's eyes. Wilson wondered if this sparkle was in his eyes, too. He certainly felt like it.

House wouldn't break the eye contact and Wilson just could not draw away from it. After a while Wilson sure _wished_ he could turn away. House's eyes suddenly seemed more and more dangerous to him. He was afraid again that House could read it all. All those feelings he had buried deep inside of him as soon as he noticed their existence. Wilson did not want to ruin this friendship, no matter how screwed up it might be. House had been so important to him all those years and it frightened him that he could put even more feelings in it. Wilson could hardly bear the friendship some times. If this turned into a relationship he would be lost and completely depending on a sarcastic, often bitter and heartless bastard.

House just wasn't the right guy for him. _The right guy?_ Wilson's heart missed a beat. Had he really worried about how to live with House and forgot about him being actually a MAN? Wilson let out a desperate mourn and finally broke the eye contact.

House let his eyes drop to his untouched dessert when Wilson looked away. He had lost him to his doubts again. For a while he had felt Wilson relaxing under his gaze, saw the faint love in his eyes and House had hoped to keep him there, to wipe away these doubts and worries, but then he noticed Wilson's fear coming through again. His thoughts had pushed the feelings aside and House knew he couldn't get through to him anymore.

He knew Wilson was confused, maybe shocked by this development. He was afraid because he could not believe what House tried to show him. The women that Wilson had been out with had been able to communicate better, they had told him about their feelings. Everyone spoke to Wilson. He was the one even the dying people thanked and shared their feelings with. But House could not say it.

He felt the urge to take Wilson's hand. He loved to play with his fingers, loved to tab on the soft fingertips and to feel Wilson respond to the touch automatically. House let his hand slip a little closer, then pulled it back again. He did not want to scare Wilson away. He had given him plenty of hints, it was Wilson's turn to answer.  
.  
.

"**W**ill you pay together?, " the waiter asked.

"Yes," Wilson pulled out his wallet and took the money out. House threw a quick glance at the money Wilson handed the waiter. He was surprised to see how expensive it actually was. He was the one who urged Wilson to take him out for dinner and for the very first time he felt bad about Wilson paying it all.

"That was an awful lot," House whispered as the waiter went over to another table. "We could share." Wilson's puzzled look made him smile.

"I asked you out to dinner," Wilson simply said.

"I talked you into it."

"This is a date-date remember?" Wilson asked matter of fact.

House drew up his eyebrows. "That's how it was planned."

"See," Wilson answered, "I never let the girl pay when I've asked her out for dinner." Wilson got up and left a frowning and speechless House at the table.  
.  
.

"**T**he girl?" House asked later in the car, still slightly affronted.

"Yes," Wilson kept his eyes on the traffic, trying hard not to laugh when he heard House mumble again.

"The girl. Really!"

House remained silent while they drove back to his apartment and Wilson felt a little lighter again. House had even let him call him "the girl" without objecting very much. They both knew there would never be anything like a girl-boy role in their relationship.

_Again_, Wilson ended thinking about a relationship.

He parked the car near the door and got out. He made a move towards the house, but House did not follow him. Wilson went a few steps back and looked through the car window. House peered back at him expectingly.

"What?" Wilson mouthed. House pointed to the door handle, Wilson came closer and opened the door of the car. "Something wrong?" he asked.

"I'm the girl," House pouted, then grinned. "You've got to open the door for me." Wilson smiled, closed the door again behind House and followed him to the apartment house.

"You're okay with that?" Wilson asked.

"No, but if it's the only way…" House's voice trailed off. He turned around and looked Wilson in the eyes and gently held his fingers in his hands, but he did not make a move.

After a while Wilson got tired of waiting. If House insited that they were gay and this was a date, then they should kiss good night. He shook of the last doubt and took one hand out of Greg's and put it around his neck. He didn't pull House very much closer, but stretched his own neck to reach his mouth.

House didn't resist, but didn't come closer either. Wilson's lips brushed on House's. He could feel his breath, and his chin lightly touched the rasp stubbles. Wilson felt awkward. This was not like kissing a girl at all and he completely forgot what he was supposed to do. He pressed his lips against House's mouth, just for a second, then retreated both: lips and his hand around his neck.

Wilson's eyes dropped to the floor, but he noticed that House had closed his eyes.

"Was that all you can do?" House asked after a short silence. "With all the fuss the girls make about you, I expected –"

"Well, I could do with a little help from you," Wilson cut him short. "I haven't been gay for very long, you know."

House looked up into Wilson's eyes. "I haven't been gay at all," he grinned.

Wilson grinned back and put his arms around Greg's waist to pull him closer. "Then we better start learning." He lifted his head again and this time House lowered his head down to him. Their lips touched again, first lightly, then House pulled Wilson even closer. Wilson was still expecting the soft skin and the sweet smell of a girl that he was so used to, but when House's rough skin scratched over his and he caught the smell of Greg's after shave his body instinctively remembered what to do. This was _much_ better than kissing any of the girls he had been out with.

"You do learn fast," Wilson said a little breathless, when their kiss finally ended.

"Got a good teacher," House smiled. They looked at each other in silence for a while, then House reached for Wilson to kiss him again. When his kisses got deeper, Wilson draw his head back and put his hands on House's chest. "Don't," he said in a slightly shaky voice.

"You can't stop now," House protested, but he gave in instantly when he noticed Wilson's confused expression. "Will you leave now and go back over to denial again?" he asked, his big round eyes still fixed on his friend.

"No," Wilson shook his head. "I just need a little time. It felt strange enough to kiss a guy and right now it scares me half to death to even think of having …- of doing more than this."

House nodded. Fair enough. He was scared, too. But this was Wilson, the only friend on earth he trusted unconditionally and he was willing to go all the way. And House was willing to wait for the next step until Wilson was ready, too. At least if it didn't take him too long.  
.  
.

"**I**'ve gotta go now," Wilson stood close to House, his hands still on his chest, but not defensiv anymore. He did not want to let go, but he was too afraid to stay. For a moment he thought House would try to convince him to come in, but he just smiled at him.

"Thanks for dinner. It's been a great evening."

Wilson smiled back. "Yes, it was." And before he turned around to his car, House pulled him close again and gave him another kiss.

"Good night Jimmy." House leaned against the door and watched Wilson get into his car and drove off. He watched the car until it turned around the corner and then just stared at the empty street were Wilson had left him just a minute before. House was aware of every bit of his body, he still felt Wilson's hands on his chest and his lips on his own. The only thing he did not feel was the fierce pain in his leg that used to accompany him day and night.  
.  
.

**W**ilson drove too fast. It wasn't House he was fleeing, it was his own body. Every fibre of it had responded to House's touch. His body had wanted more, way more. But Wilson didn't know what to do. What the hell did he know about gay love? When he took his courage and made the first move to kiss House, he thought it would be like kissing a woman. He had done that thousands of times before and yet he was lost when he had felt the stubble, had brushed the rougher skin of House's cheeks and tasted his lips. What would he have to do, if he had to take the lead again when they would go further? _Did House know what to do?_

Wilson tried to remember how he did it the first time. The very first time he had slept with a woman. Cathy. The memory had faded a little over the years, but he could still feel her touch. He recalled her picture before his eyes. But this did not help him at all. Cathy had been five years older and she had known what to do. He just had to follow where her hands had lead him.

The honking of another car made her picture disappear. He had not even noticed that he had stopped at a red traffic light. Wilson sped up the car and tried to summon Cathy's picture again, but all he saw was House. He felt his breath from when he had been so close. Wilson had made himself highly vulnerable when he kissed him, but House had not tried to hurt him then. Wilson was surprised how gentle House could be and he wondered if he would be soft and tender when he would sleep with him. Wilson knew he would do it. There was no way he could keep away from House for very long. It had been a long time since he felt for someone so very strong. He stopped the car and went up the stairs to his apartment. He was breathless, but Wilson knew that it was not from climbing the stairs.


	15. Chapter 15

**Play Along: Chapter Fifteen**

_**Author's note:** This will be the last chapter of this story. Thanks to everyone who has read along the past two weeks. :)  
I know House and Wilson have been a pain sometimes, not being able to decide which way to go and fighting with each other.  
Have fun reading the last chapter. And I would just love to read some final reviews. +hint hint+_

_**Summary:** The day after. They have big plans for the evening, but Wilson doesn't quite make it out of the hospital at 5 pm firm_

* * *

**H**ouse was late the next day. He knew the ducklings were waiting for him already, he had scheduled the meeting at 10 a.m. himself. Actually he had planned on visiting Wilson before the meeting, but it was past 10 already. House was worried a little, that he would pretend that the last evening had never happened. He knew Wilson long enough to know that he could go out on a date and then go on as if nothing had happened. At least he had done that with some of the girls he went out with. House better saw him early today to remind him of their date. 

He almost ran across the parking lot towards the entrance, his leg hurt, but he didn't care very much. House had just opened the door when from the corner of his eye he noticed Wilson walking towards him. House smiled, Wilson was late, too. Not a thing that happened often.

"Morning Wilson," he grinned knowingly. Wilson probably had been up half the night thinking, just like he had been.

"House," Wilson answered, nodded shortly and raced through the door that House held open for him. House caught back up with him at the elevator and they slipped in just before the doors closed.

"Good morning," Wilson said to the group of doctors they had joined, House barely nodded. "Giving signs already?" Wilson grinned and pointed to House's sneakers. Across the light grey fabric were pink stripes. Some of the other doctors turned and glanced at the shoes, too.

"They were a different color on the picture on the internet," House pouted. He turned to the other doctors. "I wanted blue stripes. Pink is for him." He pointed at Wilson.

The doctors smiled sheepishly and turned away, while Wilson punched his fist into his side.

House starred at him with innocent big eyes."What?"  
.  
.

**W**hen Wilson trotted along close to him on their way to their offices House couldn't help but smile. He felt Wilson's hand brush against his own and wondered if he had done that on purpose. It didn't matter.

"Will you pick me up for lunch?" House asked.

"Your treat?"

"No, that would be way too suspicious." He shook his head and Wilson sighed.

"Okay, but you have to make up for that!" Wilson walked on when House stopped in front of the meeting room, staring after Wilson slightly stunned, his mouth open.  
.  
.

"**Y**ou're late." Foreman frowned. He had watched his boss and Dr. Wilson through the glass and was a little confused to see House literally gaping at Wilson.

"Did you start without me?" House walked through the room and got himself a coffee.

"No, we thought –" Cameron started, but House interrupted her.

"Good, then I didn't miss any of the fun, did I?" He cast a smirky look at Forman.  
.  
.

**T**he morning was rather eventless. They talked about the case, House sent his minions away to do tests, they came back and they discussed the symptoms once more. The case wasn't really interesting. House was pretty sure it was some kind of bacterial infection that caused the various symptoms, they just had to wait a little until the test results were ready. He tantalized his ducklings with differential diagnoses anyway. A little practice couldn't do any harm. House was in an unusually good mood. He ignored Cameron's affecting, lash-beating looks, let Foreman write on the white board and even Chase's rather stupid comments did not bother him.

Cameron disappeared for a few minutes to check on test results and House got a little bored watching Foreman doing crosswords and Chase staring at his hands – or whatever he stared at under the table. He thought about paying a visit to Wilson, but before he could decide if it was a good idea, Cameron returned with sheets of paper.

She had tested positive on several infections. House was not surprised, but let the young doctors go through them anyway.

**W**ilson suddenly stood in the corridor, smiling and pointing at his watch. House nodded, but wanted to finish the discussion with Foreman about which antibiotic to use. Obvioulsy the discussion took too long for an impatient Wilson. He opened the door and put his head in.

"Are you coming?"

House looked up at him in mocked bewilderment. "Here and now? Not in front of the kids, but we can work on it later."

Cameron and Chase stared at House open mouthed, Foreman couldn't suppress a chuckle and Wilson blushed. House grabbed his cane and hobbled to the door.

"Give him both antibiotics, that should do him … - it. Sorry." He winked at the ducklings and stepped into the corridor

"Lunch. In the cafeteria," Wilson said loudly towards the ducklings to clear things up.

"Dinner will be more interesting," House added grinning and Wilson blushed again.

They turned and walked to the elevator.

"Why did you do that?" Wilson hissed.

"To keep them busy over lunch," House pushed the elevator button with his cane. "And to let you know about dinner…" he added. Wilson rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything.

"Don't worry about the talk too much." House turned to him, when they stood in the elevator. Wilson was very much aware of the fact that they were all alone.

"I don't," he answered and took House's face in his hands to kiss him. His lips barely touched House's when he noticed the elevator slowing down. He gave him a quick, almost innocent kiss and released him just before the doors opened. A group of people came in and they recognized some of the doctors from the group they had already met in the morning. They had to step back and behind the other people's backs House reached for Wilson's hand to give it a short squeeze.  
.  
.

"**W**ill you please try to behave in the cafeteria," Wilson whispered when they reached the ground floor and got out.

"I wasn't the one kissing in there," House pointed back to the elevator.

"Shhh now." Wilson opened the door and they went in to get their lunch.  
.  
.

**W**ilson could hardly believe that House _did_ behave quite well. Of course he made fun of other people, insulted the girl at the food counter, blew bubbles in his milkshake with the straw and stole plenty of food from Wilson's plate. But that was the usual stuff, and Wilson wasn't in for more humilation than he was already used to.

"I guess I drop by later," House said casually when they reached the conference room.

"Don't you have any cases or clinic duty to keep you busy?" Wilson asked. He had plenty of work and he wanted to get out of the hospital early today. He felt a little stupid about that, but still he was extremely nervous about tonight.

"Cuddy already has four doctors working in the clinic today and my only case turned out to be what I suspected all along: a boring bacterial infection."

Wilson sighed. "Send the ducklings home and go play."

"That's what I intended to do, but you don't seem to be too pleased with me coming over to your office."

"I was talking about your Nintendo." Wilson turned and walked to his office.

"Oh _that_!" House shouted after him. "That's kid's stuff!"  
.  
.

**I**t wasn't House who paid a visit to the other office later on. Wilson decided to beat him to it. "I need your help," he said as he walked through House's office door.

House looked up from his Nintendo. It wasn't _only_ kid's stuff after all.

"Yeah, I can lend you a hand," he grinned.

"Let me put this clear. I need help on a diagnosis of a patient."

"Easy. It's your patient. Diagnosis: cancer." House looked a little disappointed.

"Yes, cancer it is. But the cancer's still curable and does not cause these symptoms." Wilson handed the file to House's outstretched hand. "Thanks." He was glad House seemed willing to help.

"Her electrolytes are a mess and what did the lab do to the blood tests? Shuffled some numbers?" House frowned and Wilson could see, that he was already interested in the case. "I have to call the team back to work. I am not repeating all those tests myself." House reached for the phone to call the ducklings back and had already forgotten about Wilson who silently went back to his own office.  
.  
.

"**W**here is House and what is he doing?" Cuddy asked suspiciously. She had just come into Wilson's office to hand him some more paperwork.

"He is working on a case. And please don't send anymore of these files over to me today. I don't know when to work on them anymore." Wilson pointed to another stack on his desk. He was tired and his mood would have been on an all time low hadn't it been for his new relationship with House.

"House doesn't have a case. The only patient he's got, has a huge amount of antibiotics pumped into him and he'll probably will be okay again by tomorrow."

"He's assisting me with one of my patients. Sarah Landerson obviously got worse problems than her cancer." Wilson put aside the last file he had been working on and looked up at Cuddy.

"Did you blackmail him or something like that to take over the case?" Cuddy's eyes were big with surprise.

"Something like that," Wilson answered shortly.

"What's the deal?" She couldn't believe Wilson could hand over a case to House just like that.

"The deal?" Wilson stuttered. "That's just something – uhm, personal."

"What is going on with you two?" Cuddy inquired. "I heard new rumors about you. Your private life's kind of … adventuresome lately."

"Jealous?" House stood in the open door, grinning broadly.

"You're part of that gossip, too." Cuddy shot at him.

"Oooh!" House mocked. "And you wanna be in it, too? I'm sorry, you can't! We won't share."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "It's impossible to have a normal conversation with you." She cast an angry glance at House. "Wilson, I want to talk to you later. Could you please come over to my office when you're done here." She pointed at the stack of papers and squeezed past House through the door.  
.  
.

"**Y**ou're not going to finish all those files, do you?" House walked through the office and flipped his fingers through the papers. "Those'll take you forever."

"I'll leave some for tomorrow to get out of here soon." Wilson tried to smile.

"Dr. James Wilson will leave work at 5pm?" House drew his finger across the top file and then let it drop to Wilson's desk and drew it over Wilson's hand. "Any special plans for tonight. Got a date?"

Wilson forced a smile. "Kind of. It's more like a sequel to the last one, I guess."

"You're tired already," House stated. "I'd spare you the bad news, but your patient needs some urgent treatment." He placed the file onto Wilson's desk. "The cancer has spread already."

"No, we checked. Lymphnodes were clean," Wilson protested.

"It's in her lung or in her head. She has Schwartz-Bartter." House wished he could have postponed this conversation until tomorrow, but the patient would be in a coma by then.

"She's not a kid. Schwartz-Bartter would've been diagnosed about twenty years ago." Wilson already knew he had lost. If it wasn't idiopathic, it was most probably from the cancer.

"Check the lungs for a small cell carcinoma and the head for a tumor again. It must be there somewhere unless we overlooked severe burns that caused the electrolytes to go out of control."

Wilson groaned and started to massage his neck with his right hand. This was not going well. House walked around the desk, hung his cane on the shelf and pushed Wilson's hand away. "I'll send the kids to check for the tumor," he said, pressing his fingertips into Wilson's neck and shoulders. "You do whatever is necessary here and I take care of Cuddy. You don't have to talk with her today."

Wilson closed his eyes and felt his muscles relax. "Thanks," he mumbled. House's fingers stroke through his hair once, then he dropped his hands. Wilson reluctantly open his eyes only to see the stack of paperwork in front of him. He sighed and opened the first folder while House limped out of his office.  
.  
.

**I**t wasn't until two hours later when House came back to see Wilson. "We got the treatment for Schwartz-Bartter going. The tumor infiltrated most of her left lung, but is really hard to see." He held the MRI image up and pointed to some of the tumor parts.

"Oh shit," was all Wilson could say. He stared at the MRI. Now that House had pointed out the small shadows he could see them, too. They were about everywhere within the left lung.

"Right lobe looks clean though", House mused. "Surgery in combination with chemotherapy might help."

Wilson pinched his nose and rubbed his eyes, he had stared at those files for way too long. "We have to be sure. We can't take out half her lung and then leave her with chemo and an infiltrated right lobe."

"Cameron and Foreman are working on the biopsy and the lavage, we'll have the results tomorrow. We are going home now."

Wilson wanted to protest, but House closed the file and put it back on the stack.  
.  
.

**T**hey drove to House's apartment in silence.

"She's gonna die," Wilson said exhaustedly when they closed the door behind them. House turned around and opened his arms. Wilson sank gratefully against his chest.

"She might as well make it and live for another twenty years," House lied. The possibility to survive cancer in that state was low. He started to rub Wilson's back. He wanted him to relax and forget about work, but he knew how hopeless this wish was. Doctors could never forget about their work for very long. "Come on," he said hoarsly. "Relax." He gave him a soft kiss on his hair.

Wilson took a deep breath. "Okay, I'll try. It's been a horrible day."

"Hey you've been to lunch with me. Doesn't that make up for some of the other shit?" House teased, pushing Wilson away a bit so he could look him in the eyes.

"Thanks for your help." Wilson smiled a little. House couldn't resist to pull him closer again and kiss him.

"What'll we have for dinner?" House mumbled, his lips still on Wilson's.

"I thought we'll have –" Wilson couldn't finish his answer. His pager went off.

"Turn it off," House advised. "Don't even look at it." But it was too late, Wilson had already read the message.

"She's coughing blood. I have to go back to the hospital."

"To help her cough?" Anger dwelled in House's voice, but he quickly suppressed it. He would have returned to the hospital as well. "I'll drive."

Wilson shook his head. "I'll just check on her and get the test results. I'll be back in a bit."

House followed Wilson with his eyes as he turned around and walked back out of the door. So far for the big evening. This day really got in their way.  
.  
.

**S**tepping through the dark of his apartment, House went to the kitchen first. He got a beer out of the fridge and then made his way to the sofa to turn the tv on. They would have to order Chinese food later on when Wilson was back. He closed his eyes, the flickering light from some game show still on his lids and drifted into a light slumber.

The pain in his leg woke House hours later. He blinked at the bright light from the tv and then listened into the darkness. There was no sound and no sign of Wilson. Hoping he had just left him sleeping he pulled himself up and limped into the bedroom, but Wilson had not come back yet. He looked at his watch. It was way past midnight, he missed Wilson and he was worried. Still ignoring the pain in his leg he hubbled over to the phone and dialed Wilson's cell phone number. Mailbox. He tried the office. Mailbox again. House called the reception. "Dr. House here. I'd like to speak to Dr. James Wilson." It took the receptionist a minute to check, then she returned to the phone.

"Dr. Wilson is not available right now. I'm sorry. Emergency surgery. Can I take him a message?"

House didn't answer. He let his hand sink and put the receiver back. "Poor Jimmy," he whispered and then loudly cursed his newly discovered softer side. He should just go to sleep.  
.  
.

**I**t was almost three in the morning when Wilson opened the door and stepped into the quiet apartment. He dropped his coat on the coatrack and stuffed the keys into the pocket. Silently he tip-toed past the bedroom and looked at the bed, but House was not there. He shuffled to the living-room, finding him asleep on the couch. Wilson could hardly keep his eyes open, but the sight of House sleeping in front of the tv made him smile. He had obviously waited for him. Two bottles of beer stood on the table, still unopened. Wilson did not want to wake House, but he sat down and couldn't resist leaning against him. House shifted a little and put his arm around Wilson's shoulders.

"Are you still awake?" Wilson asked softly.

"No," came the prompt but sleepy reply.

"Right lung is okay. She'll make it for a few more months," Wilson whispered and put his arm around House's waist. He closed his eyes, content that he had saved a life – at least for now, and even though House would not admit it, Wilson knew he was proud, too. Proud of himself for finding the carcinoma and proud of Wilson for doing the surgery right in time. It didn't matter much anymore that the surgery had ruined their evening. Wilson doze of, feeling good and safe in House's arm.  
.  
.

**T**he tapping of House's fingertips against his own woke him up again. Wilson smiled in confusion, then felt House's other hand slip down his back. House kissed him and Wilson could feel his mouth twist into a mischievous grin onto his lips. "You didn't think you could get away with sleeping tonight, did you?"  
.


End file.
